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COUSIN KATE 



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Cousin Kate 



A COMEDY 

In Three Acts 



By HUBERT HENRT DAFIES 



All rights reserved under the International Copyright Act. 
Performance forbidden and right of representation reserved. 
Application for the right to produce this play may he made 
to Charles Frohman, Empire Theatre New York. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER &- CO. 

LONDON 

WILLIAM HEINE MANN 

MCMX 



COUSIN KATE 



Copyright, 1910, by 
HUBERT HENRY DAVIES 

All rights reserved ^ i 



^^ 



■^^.x^ 






PLEASE READ CAREFULLY 

The acting rights of this play are reserved by the author. 
Performance is strictly forbidden unless his express consent 
or that of his agent has first been obtained, and attention 
is called to the penalties provided by law for any infringe- 
ment of his rights, as follows : — 

"Sec. 40fiG : — Any person publicly performing or repre- 
senting any dramatic or musical composition for which 
copyright has lieeu obtained, without the consent of the 
proprietor of said dramatic or musical composition, or his 
heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages therefor, such 
damages in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less 
than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars for 
every subsequent performance, as co the court shall appear 
to be just. If the unlawful pprfoimance and representation 
be wilful and for profit, such person or persons shall be 
guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction be imprisoned 
for a period not exceeding one year." — U. S. Revised 
Statute.s, Title 60, Chap. S. 

The right to perform this play professionally may be ob- 
tained by addressing 

Charles Frohman, Empire Theatre, New York. 



CCLD 20190 

t 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 



Heath Desmond 
Rev. James Bartlett 
Bobby Spencer 
Mrs. Spencer 
Amy Spencer 
Jane 



Cousin Kate 



and 



An artist 
A clergyman 
A schoolboy 
A ivifloio 
A (jirl 
A servant 

A novelist 



Act I. 
Act II. 
Act III. 



At Mrs. Spencer's 
The e^npty house 
At Mrs. Spencer's 



The action takes place in a rural district of England, 
at the present day, and covers a period of about Jive hours. 



This play was jirst acted at the Haymarket Theatre, 
London, on Thursday evening, June 18th, 1003, tmder the 
management of Messrs. Frederick Harrison and Cyril 
Maude. Below is a copy of the original programine. 



Cousin Kate 



A //ElV COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 

By HUBERT HENRY DAVIES 

Performed for the first time 07i Thursday eveniti£^,Jtitte iSth, IQOJ. 



Heath Desmond 
Rev. James Bartlett 
Bobby Spencer 
Mrs. Spencer 
Amy Spencer 
Jane .... 
Kate Curtis 



Mr. Cyril Maude 
Mr. Rudge Harding 
Master Cyril Smith 
Miss Carlotta Addison 
Aliss Beatrice Ferrar 
Miss Pamela Gaythorne 
Miss Ellis Jeffreys 



The action takes place in a rural district of Eng- 
land, and covers a period of about five hours. 



Acts I. and III. Drawing-room at Mrs. Spencer's, 
Walter Hann. 

Act II. The sitting-room at " Owlscot," 
Walter Hann. 



COUSIN KATE 



THE FIEST ACT 

SCENE : — A drawing-room at Mrs. Spencek's, 
There is a door on the left-hand side and a 
French window opposite the audience. It is a 
cheerful room, used as a general sitting-room, 
with simple and rather old-fashioned fumi' 
ture. The window is wide open and shows a 
pretty country garden in mid-summer. There 
is a large oval table near the centre, with hoohs 
and a howl of flowers upon it. A writing-table 
against the wall near the door. A sofa, seV' 
eral chairs and other suitable furniture to 
complete scene; pictures and brackets on the 
wall. A picture over the writing-table repre- 
sents a girl feeding pigeons. 

Mrs. Spencer is seated on the sofa, sewing, with a 
capacious worlc-basTcet by her side. She is a 
middle-aged widow, a gentlewoman who has 
always lived in the country and is unsophisti- 
cated in the ivays of the world. By nature she 
is soft and affectionate, tactless, and with no 
fjrce of character. She is well, but not 
stylishly, dressed. 

1 



2 COUSIN KATE 

Amy Spencer, her daughter, is seated in an arm- 
chair doing nothing. She is a pretty girl of 
twenty, well, but plainly, dressed. She is a 
serious girl, practical and without imaginor 
Hon or humour; very honestly trying to do 
her duty — always very sincere and unaf' 
fected. 

Bobby Spencer, Amy'^brother, a boy of fourteen, 
is seated at the table reading; his book and 
elbows are on the table and his head clasped 
betiveen his hands. He wears a flannel shirt 
and trousers, a dark coat and canvas shoes. 

From the serious demeanour of the Spencers 
when the curtain rises, it is evident that 
something is weighing heavily upon them. 
Amy listlessly turns her engagement ring 
round on her finger, then takes it off and ex- 
amines it, without noticing the others. When 
she takes it off, Mrs. Spencer ivatches her 
furtively over her work, and Bobby steals a 
glance at her. Amy replaces the ring. Mrs. 
Spencer and Bobby continue sewing and 
reading. Amy rises, goes to the window and 
looks off. As soon as Amy's back is turned, 
Mrs. Spencer drops her work and watches 
her. Bobby also looks up from his book and 
watches her; then Mrs. Spencer and Bobby 
look at each other. Amy turns from the win- 
dow and glances at the others, who continue 
sewing and reading and pretend not to be 
watching her. Amy goes out and closes the 



COUSIN KATE 3 

door. As soon as she has gone, Mrs. Spencer 
lays her work down 'beside her, takes out her 
handkerchief and dries her eyes. Bobby 
pushes his book away and leans back in his 
chair. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Poor Amy ! 

BOPCT. 

I'd like to kill him. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

He may have had some good reason for going 
away. I try to believe so. 

Bobby. 

But wouldn't he have told her if he had, instead 
of leaving her like this without a word? He's 
had two days to tell her in. We may as well 
make up our minds that he's gone for good. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[With a fresh burst of tears.'\ Oh, it's terrible 
to see her going about the house so pale and quiet. 
If she'd only talk about it, but she won't. She 
feels the humiliation so. [Wipes her eyes.] 

Bobby. 
I can't help thinking I ought to do something ! 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Sorrowfully.'] What could you do ? 



4 COUSIN KATE 

Bobby. 

If I knew where he was, I might go for him. 
Of course, he could lick me, but I might land 
him a punch or two on his beastly jaw first — and 
that 'ud be somethin' ! [Gloomily.] It's sittin' 
still and doin' notliin' that's so awful. I ought 
to be doia' somethin' — because — well — I'm the 
only man in our family. 

[There is a JcnocTc on the door; Mrs. 
Spencer quicMy resumes her work, try- 
ing to look composed. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Come in. 

[Jane, a country servant maid, with a 
perpetual grin, enters with a parcel. 

Jane. 
Is Miss Amy 'ere? 

Mrs. Spencer. 
She just went out. What have you there, Jane ? 

Jane. 

I think it's another wedding present, mum. 
Miss 'Orner left it. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Miss Horner? 



COUSIN KATE 5 

Jane. 
The 'ousemaid at Darbisher's, mum. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh, from Mrs. Darbisher. Please put it on the 
table. 

Jane. 

Yes, mum. [Lays the parcel on the table.] 

Mrs. Spencer, 

[As Jane goes to the door.] Don't disturb 
Miss Amy. I'll tell her. 

Jane. 
Yes, mum. 

[Jane goes out; Mrs. Spencer goes to 
the table, takes up the parcel and looks 
at it. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I'd better put it where Amy won't see it. [Puts 
the parcel in a drawer of the writing-table.] I 
don't think Jane knows yet that there's anything 
the matter. 

Bobby. 

[Watching his mother.] We might as well tell 
everybody. He won't come back, and it might 
stop the presents comin'. [Nearly crying.] I 
can't bear it when the presents come. [Turns 
quickly to window to hide his emotion. Mrs. 



6 COUSIN KATE 

Spencer goes bach to the sofa and resumes her 
sewing. 1 

Mrs. Spencer. 

It'll be better when Cousin Kate comes. 

Bobby. 
What can she do ? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I don't know, but I always have a feeling that 
things will be better when Cousin Kate comes. 

Bobby. 

[Going nearer to the window as if he sees 
someone approaching.] Here's Mr. Bartlett. 
[Turns to his mother.] Shall I go and say you 
won't see him? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Dropping her work.] No, I asked him to 
call. 

Bobby. 

Are you goin' to tell him? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Yes, I must. You see, he's going on with the 
arrangements at the church. [There is a knoch 
at the door.] Come in. 

[Jane enters. 
Jane. 
Mr. Bartlett, mum. 



COUSIN KATE 7 

[Mrs. Spencer places her work and hashet 
on the table. The Eev. James Bart- 
LETT^ a serious young Anglican clergy- 
man, enters. He is about thirty-five, 
rather stiff, and pompous, and always 
very much in earnest. His oratorical 
and platitudinous style of talking has 
become natural through habit. He quite 
sincerely does what he thinks is right 
but he can't see through himself. He 
always employs a genial manner in greet- 
ing people but geniality is not natural 
to him. 

Bartlett. 

Good afternoon, Mrs. Spencer. \He shakes 
hands with her.'\ 

[Jane goes out. Bobby shakes hands 
with Mr. Bartlett. 

Bobby. 
[Lugubriously.'] How d'you do, Mr. Bartlett? 

Bartlett. 

\In his genial manner — patting Bobby on the 
back.] Well, Eobert, how are the holiday tasks 
going? 

Bobby. 
Not very well. 

Bartlett. 

Too much cricket, eh? 



COUSIN KATE 



Bobby. 



[With a sigh-l No — it isn't that. [Turns 
away.] 

[Mr. Bartlett seats himself in an arm- 
chair and addresses Mrs. Spencer. 

Bartlett. 

We've just been practicing the wedding hymn. 
The boys really give a capital rendering of " The 
Voice that breathed o'er Eden." 

Mrs. Spencer, 

[Embarrassed, trying to control her emotion; 
Bobby watching her.] Mr. Bartlett, we are in 
great trouble. [She pauses, Bartlett instantly 
drops the genial manner and leans forivard in the 
attitude of professional sympathiser.] Amy will 
not be married the day after to-morrow. [Begin- 
ning to weep.] Mr. Desmond has gone away. 
[She pauses to wipe her eyes before proceeding.] 

Bartlett. 
[Not quite understanding.] Gone away? 

Bobby. 
[Bitterly.] He's jilted her — the cad. 

Bartlett. 

[Sincerely, hut professionally to Mrs. Spen- 
cer.] May I say that I sympathise with you 
most deeply in this visitation? 



COUSIN KATE 9 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Recovering herself.] Thank you. I was sure 
you would. I don't know what to think of it all. 
Mr. Desmond was here as usual on Sunday eve- 
ning, and he said nothing about going away, but 
when Bobby went round to his lodgings on Mon- 
day morning, they told him he had packed his 
things and gone. 

Bartlett. 

He sent you no explanation? 

Mrs. Spenceb. 
No — and he left no address. 

Bartlett. 

Have you taken any steps to find out where 
he went? 

Mrs. Spencer, 

No. I thought it would hardly become us to 
go after him if he wishes to leave us. Perhaps 
I was wrong. I don't know what to do. I'm 
afraid we are rather a helpless little family; but 
we've never had to face anything like this before. 
(Dries her eyes agai^i.l 

Bartlett. 

Let us hope that though your way now seems 
so dark it may ultimately prove to be all for the 
best. 



10 COUSIN KATE 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Yes, but two days before the wedding — [Weeps 
again.} 

Bobby. 

[Sorrow fully.l She's got her dress and veil 
and everythin' and the cake came this morning. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Their home is ahnost ready for them. He 
wouldn't go away now if he meant to marry Amy. 

Bartlett. 
It's very lamentable — very lamentable. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Cheering up a hit.'] It will be better when 
Cousin Kate comes. 

Bobby. 

Mr. Bartlett doesn't know who Cousin Kate is, 
mother. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

My cousin, Miss Curtis. She is coming on a 
visit. She was coming to the wedding. She 
doesn't know yet — of course. We are all very 
fond of her, and she's seen us through many a 
trouble. When my dear husband died, and Amy 
and I were prostrate with grief, she came and 
did everything for us. I don't know what we 
should do without Cousin Kate. 



COUSIN KATE 11 

Bobby. 
She lives in London. She writes novels. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I think you told me that you had read some of 
her books. 

Bartlett. 

[Stiffening with disapprobation.^ I have. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

l^Simply.'] She isn't at all like her books. 
She's very nice. 

Bobby. 

Yes, she's jolly. She used to play cricket with 
me when I was a kid. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

She's been like an elder sister to these children 
— and to me too. [Observing Bartlett's stiff 
attitude.l I'm afraid you don't approve of her 
books, by your face. 

Bartlett. 

I found her cynical attitude towards love and 
marriage very distressing. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I don't pretend to be a critic, and I couldn't 
make head or tail of Kate's last book, but no one 



12 COUSIN KATE 

could help loving her. She is so unselfish and 
affectionate — wayward and impulsive, too. When 
she was younger I was afraid she might do some- 
thing imprudent. I could so easily imagine her 
eloping or going upon the stage. But she'll be 
a great help now. [Amy enters.] She's devoted 
to Amy. [Sees Amy.] Oh, Amy dear, here's 
Mr. Bartlett. 

[Amy goes to Mr. Bartlett who rises and 
shakes hands with her. Mrs. Spencer 
and Bobby hoth watch her anxiously. 
She is very composed. 

Amy. 

Bobby, I think it's time you went to meet 
Cousin Kate. 

Bobby. 

[Looking sorrowfully at Amy.] Yes, I'll go. 

[Bobby goes cmt. 
Amy. 

[To Mrs. Spencer.] Aren't you going to the 
Mothers' Meeting? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Rising. 1 Perhaps I'd better. I suppose 
they'd wonder if I didn't come. 

Amy. 

I think there is no need for us to neglect our 
duties. 



COUSIN KATE 13 

Mrs. Spencer. 

No, dear, I'll just go and put in an appearance, 
any way, and if Cousin Kate comes before I'm 
back you can look after her — can't you ? You'll 
excuse me, won't you, Mr. Bartlett? 

[Mr. Bartlett opens the door for Mrs. 
Spencer. She looks at Amy^ hesitates, 
then goes to her and Jcisses her emotion- 
ally. Amy receives the hiss Jcindly hut 
undemonstratively. Mrs. Spencer goes 
out, wiping her eyes. Mr. Bartlett 
closes the door after her. 

Bartlett. 

[Impressively.'] Oh, if only there were more 
Christian women like you. Miss Spencer. 

Amy. 
[Turns to him a little surprised.'] Like me? 

Bartlett. 

More who place their duties before their pleas- 
ures or — what is even rarer, before their griefs. 

Amy. 

I want to do my duty, but sometimes it is very 
hard even to know what it is. 

Bartlett. 

Be patient, and be assured that everything will 
be made plain. 



14 COUSIN KATE 

Amy. 

I am patient, but everything is not made plain. 
I know it is rebellious of me to speak so, but I 
think you understand a Christian's difficulties 
better than most people do. Our own vicar is 
very good, of course — but he is so old, I suppose 
he can't understand a young person's temptations 
very well, and since you came here to take his 
place, you have so often helped me. You say 
things that seem to be meant specially for me. 

Bartlett. 

I am very grateful if I have been the instrument 
chosen to bring the truth home to you. 

Amy. 

You preached two Sundays ago against the 
danger of yoking ourselves with unbelievers. Did 
you mean wicked people — like atheists — or just 
flighty people — lilce — like — 

Bartlett. 

The Irish. [Amy drops her eyes.] I am afraid 
there is not a very wide difference between the 
two states. Flightiness is the forerunner of 
crime. 

Amy. 

Oh, but with a person to whom crime is out of 
the question — a person who doesn't trouble much 
about going to church, but who is always good 
and kind. 



COUSIN KATE 15 

Bartlett. 

That is not a very easy question to decide off- 
hand. 

Amy, 

It is a question I have to decide. I know I 
am weak and inexperienced, but I do want to do 
what is right, and I want to do right by other 
people, too. It isn't always easy to do both. 

Bartlett. 

Do you find it impossible to fulfil your duties 
towards others, and at the same time to follow 
the dictates of your own conscience? 

Amy. 

[Simply.'l I don't know till I try. I suppose 
I ought to be wise enough to settle my own diffi- 
culties, but you see I'm not. [Sits on the sofa.l 

Bartlett. 

[Speaking more earnestly than he has yet done.'] 
If you were free from all obligations, would you 
be able to perform your duties better singly, or 
yoked with one whose aims were the same as your 
own, whose loving interest would support not 
hinder you, in your life's work? [Sits beside 
her.] 

Amy. 

[Looking on the ground.] I think I could do 



16 COUSIN KATE 

more good with someone to guide me. [Looks 
up at him.'] I suppose that's very weak? 

Bartlett. 

No, no. [ffe holes into her eyes. She turns 
them avjay embarrassed.'] It is a divine ordinance 
that each should have a loving helpmeet to assist 
and cheer him on this earthly pilgrimage. [He 
bends towards her, speaJcing like a lover.] Miss 
Spencer — Amy — 

[There is a knock on the door. Amy rises 
abruptly. Jane bursts in. 

Jane. 

[Excitedly.] She's coming. 

Amy. 
[To Mr. Bartlett.] It's Cousin Kate. 

Jane. 

She's not here yet. Miss, but I see the cab go 
round the corner, and it's her box — the same 
she had last time. 

[Jane goes out. 
Amy. 

[Constrained as she turns to Mr. Bartlett.] 
Will you stay and meet her? 

Bartlett. 

I think not. May I come and renew this con- 
versation another time? 



COUSIN KATE 17 

Amy. 



Amy. 

We shall be very pleased to see you if you care 
to come {^patLses, then says hurriedly'^ to supper 
this evening. 

Babtlett. 

Thank you. I will come. 

[Mr. Bartlett goes out. 

[Enter Cousin Kate. She is a charming, humour' 
ous, high-spirited, affectionate woman of 
twenty-nine. She knows the world, and her 
experience has only matured, not embittered 
her. She is devoted to the Spencers; their 
simplicity appeals to her heart, and she feels 
as if she ivere their gv/irdian — a position 
they very willingly grant her. She is charm- 
ingly dressed. She carries a small hag in 
one hand, an umbrella and sunshade closed 
in the other, and a light dust-coat over one 
arm. As she is passing the window she sees 
Amy, stops, and enters by the window. 

Kate. 

Here you are. [Swoops upon Amy, embraces 
her with her arms full, and hisses her on each 
cheek.'] I'm so glad to see you. [She turns to 
deposit her things on the table; Amy helps her.] 
Oh, my dear, I've had such an adventure in the 
train. 

Amy. 

[Apprehensively.] What — an acddent? 



18 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 
No — a man. 

Amy. 

Did he speak to you ? 

Kate. 

[Demurely as she draws off her gloves.'] Yes 
— he spoke to me. 

Amy. 

How dreadful! It's getting worse and worse 
on this line. Florrie Cutler told me the most 
awful experience she had the other day. I think 
the man put his feet up and whistled, — and 
when she looked at him he winked. [LooTcs at 
Kate, who is wrestling with her gloves.] I can 
see you are all in a flutter. [Kate smiles at her.] 
Did he go far? 

Kate. 
All the way. 

[Amy opens her mouth and eyes in sur- 
prise. 

Kate. 

Yes. He got out at this station. 

Amy. 

[Relieved.] Oh, I meant did he do more than 
just speak? 

Kate. 

He laughed and — [Amy looks horrified. 



COUSIN KATE 19 

Kate smiles at her as she throws her gloves on 
the table.] My dear, he was perfectly charming. 

Amy. 
[Shoclced.l Oh, Cousin Kate! 

Kate. 
[Demurely.] How's your mother? 

Amy. 

She's quite well. But how did you get into 
conversation with him? 

Kate. 

The usual way. He asked me if I'd like the 
window up or down. I said " up " . . . or 
was it " down " ? Anyhow I said I'd have it the 
way it wasn't. You know he wasn't at all like 
a man in a train. Generally I accept the window 
up or down and refuse the newspaper, but he 
offered his so charmingly — a little shyly, but not 
at all clumsily. He was so nice. 

Amy. 

[Thoughtfully.] 1 suppose there is no harm 
in accepting a newspaper from a fellow traveller. 

Kate. 
Of course not. 



20 COUSIN KATE 

Amy. 
If one isn't a very young woman. 

Kate. 

[Turns suddenly on Amy, protesting good- 
humouredly.^ Oh, Amy, you demon! 

Amy. 

[Afraid she has hurt Kate's feelings.'] Oh, 
I don't mean — 

Kate. 

You mean me. [Smiling.'] But I don't mind, 
because a very young woman wouldn't know the 
sort of man she has to snub from the sort it's 
safe to be nice to. [Folds her hands in mock 
resignation.] Old age has its compensations. 

Amy. 

Of course you merely returned his paper with 
a word of thanks. 

Kate. 

Er — er — How^s Bobby? [She wanders about 
looTcing at things.] 

Amy. 
He went to the station to meet you. 

Kate. 

Did he ? I didn't see him. But I was in such 
a state. 



COUSIN KATE 21 

Amy. 
[Innocently.] Were you? Why? 

Kate. 

Oh, with my luggage, of course. I leapt into 
a cab and flew up here without saying good-bye. 

Amy. 
Good-bye? Who came with you? 

Kate. 

[Darting an impatient look at Amy.] Oh, 
Amy ! [Stops in front of the picture.] What a 
pretty picture ! It's new since I was here. [Goes 
closer to it as if to examine it carefully.] A girl 
feeding pigeons — very nice. 

Amy. 

[Puzzling.] Oh, I see — without saying good- 
bye to the man who lent you the newspaper. Who 
was he? 

Kate. 

[Still regarding the picture.] I don't know. 
I never saw him before. [Slowly — almost with 
a sigh.] I shall never see him again. [Pauses, 
gazing in front of her, hut not at the picture. 
BlinJcs her eyes and turns round quickly, speaking 
more to herself than Amy.] Of course I shall 
never see him again. What am I thinking of ? 



22 COUSIN KATE 

Amy. 
But you say he got out here. 

Kate. 

If I happened to meet him — I daresay I might 
— bow to him. I suppose I could do that without 
behaving like a servant? 

Amy. 

I wonder if I know him. I know everyone 
about here by sight. What was he like? 

Kate. 
Sunshine. 

Amy. 
Tall or short? 

Kate. 

Just right — not too anything. 

Amy. 

What was it that attracted you so greatly to 
him? 

Kate. 

I don't know; he wasn't much to look at. 

Amy. 
Ugly? 

Kate. 

N"o! or I shouldn't have asked him to share 
lunch. 



COUSIN KATE 23 

Amy. 
[Amazed.'] Share lunch? 

Kate. 

[Embarrassed; laughs and comes quicJcly tO' 
wards Amy.] Oh, I forgot. I didn't tell you 
that. You see, Amy, it's a long journey from 
town — so I had a lunch-basket — and he hadn't 
one, and I was sure he must be getting hungry 

— and they give you so much in those lunch- 
baskets — I never can eat it all, can you ? And 

— Well, Amy, you wouldn't put a whole chicken 
leg under the seat if you saw a starving man 
opposite, would you? 

Amy. 
So you — ? 

Kate. 

So we nursed the lunch-basket between us. 

Amy. 

[Horrified.'} Nursed it! 

Kate. 

It was the easiest way. Would you have us 
put it on the seat and eat sideways like this? 
[She illustrates how awbward it would he.] Very 
awkward. 

Amy. 

[Thoughtfully.] I wonder who he was? 



24 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

[Seriously.l You see, I never thought he'd 
get out here — at such a little station. , 

Amy. 
What sort of eyes had he? 

Kate. 
[With enthusiasm.'] Oh, nice eyes. 

Amy. 



But what colour? 



Kate. 



[SpeaJcs slowly, not looking at Amy.] First I 
thought they were grey — then when he came 
nearer I saw they were deep blue, and when he 
leaned over — [Amy loohs shocked] over the 
lunch-basket and talked, they looked almost black 
— wonderful eyes. [Slowly and softly as if her 
thoughts had gone far.] Wonderful eyes. 

Amy. 

[Watching her.] Cousin Kate, I believe you're 
in love with him. 

Kate. 

[Brought hack suddenly; rises, really a little 
annoyed.) Now, how ridiculous. Just because 
he happened to be civil in a train — a man I've 
never seen before. I wish you wouldn't say such 
silly things. Amy. 



COUSIN KATE 25 

Amy. 

^Trying to conciliate her.1 I beg your pardon 
■^I didn't mean to — 

Kate. 

I'm sorry I told you now ; I didn't mean to tell 
anyone. Not that there was the least reason to 
keep it secret. But I did think that being in love 
yourself, you'd be able to understand how one 
may be a little excited by meeting a man — and 
want to tell everyone about it — without being at 
all in love. 

Amy. 

But I always thought that being excited and 
wanting to talk about him — was a sign — 

Kate. 

'Now, Amy, you'll make me quite angry if you 
keep on like that. I did think you'd have more 
sense when you are just going to be married. 

Amy. 
But I'm not going to'be married. 

Kate. 

[Electrified.'] What? You don't mean to tell 
me it's broken off? 

Amy. 
[Quietly.] He has left me. 



26 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

[In a rush of pity and affection sits beside Amy 
and puts her arms about her.] Oh, you poor, 
dear child. And I've just been so horrid and 
cross to you. I'm sure you are well rid of him. 
But we'll get him back for you, someway or other. 
He shan't go away and leave you. How dare he 
— the monster ? 

Amy. 

[Distressed.l No — don't say that. It was 
my fault. 

Kate. 
Your fault? 

Amy. 

Yes. The others don't know that, and they 
are all saying such hard things about him, and 
I feel so guilty. 

[Kate loatches her a moment before she 
speaks. 

Kate. 

Well, whatever you did, he'd no right to run 
away just before the wedding and upset every- 
thing so. I don't thinkphe's a nice man. 

Amy. 
Oh, but it was my fault. 

Kate. 

Not at all. You couldn't have quarrelled unless 
he'd quarrelled, too. I've no patience with the 



COUSIN KATE 27 

way men go on now. They think they can do 
anything they like because there are so many of 
us. I^il teacli one of them a lesson one of these 
days. 

Amy. 

But Heath wasn't like that. 

Kate. 

I don't know what he was like. I'm thankful 
to say I never saw him. 

Amy. 

I'll tell you how it was. You know Heath is 
an artist. 

Kate. 

That's no excuse. 

Amy. 

And he says artists can't take life seriously all 
the time. 

Kate. 

[Pleased and impressed with this remarhJ] 
He's quite right. [Annoyed to find herself 
pleased with anything he said.^ I suppose he 
read that in a book. 

Amy. 

It has often troubled me that he couldn't take 
life as seriously as I do. The other evening I 
spoke to him about it. I began by telling him 
the way I should like us to keep Sunday after 
we are married. He paints on Sundays. 



28 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 
[Unimpressed.] Does he? 

Amy. 

Yes, and I don't think it's right. And he is 
often flippant in a way I don't like. I spoke 
about that, too. 

Kate. 

[Looking away from Amy, speaTcs half to her- 
self.'] I'm beginning to feel rather sorry for 
poor Heath. 

Amy. 

And when he laughed at me I lost my temper. 
It is hard to be made fun of when you are trying 
to do what's right — isn't it ? 

Kate. 

Yes, I think it was nasty of him to make fun 
of you. What did he say? 

Amy. 

When I said I didn't like him to paint on 
Sunday — he said he'd only paint religious sub- 
jects. 

Kate. 

[Amused.] He's nice, isn't he? 

Amy. 

[Gravely.] But he said it to make fun. He 
wouldn't see that I was in earnest. 



COUSIN KATE 29 

Kate. 
But He really is in love with you, isn't he? 

Amy. 

\_8miles.'\ Oh, yes, I'm sure he's very much 
in love with me. But don't you think I was 
right to speak out? 

Kate. 

Well, you know, Amy, it seems to me that if 
a man was nice and witty, and in love with me 
— I'd let him paint devils on Sunday if he wanted 
to. But still, I don't think that was any reason 
for his going away without a word. You must 
have said more than that. 

Amy. 

Well — Yes. He seemed to think he had 
only to give me a kiss and we could go on laughing 
and talking as if nothing had happened. But it 
was the last Sunday before our marriage and I 
couldn't help realising how serious it all was. I 
think so many people become selfish when they 
marry. They live only for each other and forget 
their higher duties. And I said I wanted ours 
to be an ideal marriage, and to make it that we 
ought to eliminate passion as much as possible. 

Kate. 

[Very gravely.'] Oh! What did he say to 
that? 



30 COUSIN KATE 

Amy. 

He said I didn't know what I was talking 
about. Then I grew very angry, and I said 
rather more than I intended. I told him I 
couldn't marry him unless he changed, 

Kate. 
[As before,] Oh!! 

Amy. 

And he just walked out of the room. I haven't 
seen him since. I thought he'd come back. But 
he didn't. 

[Mrs. Spencer enters in her honnet; goes 
to Kate and greets her affectionately. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh, Kate! I'm so glad you've come. Forgive 
me for not being here to welcome you, but I had 
to go to the Mothers' Meeting. 

Kate. 
You good little thing. 

Amy. 

I'll go and tell them to take your trunk up- 
stairs. [Takes the hag, dustcloah and umbrella 
from the table.'] 

Kate. 

Oh, thank you. [Produces a Icey from her 



COUSIN KATE 31 

pocJcet.l Here's the key. [As she gives it to 
Amy she speaks aside to her with a glance to 
Mrs. Spencer, who has seated herself on the sofa 
and is drawing off her gloves.l Don't tell anyone 
about the man in the train. 

[Amy goes out. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Has Amy told you? 

Kate. 
Yes. I'm so sorry. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh, Kate, it's breaking my heart. I never 
felt so much in need of you as I do now. You 
will help us, won't you, dear? 

Kate. 

If I can — of course — but — tell me — Do 
people know? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Only Mr. Bartlett. 

Kate. 

Who's he? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

A young clergyman who is taking our vicar's 
duty while he is abroad. 



32 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 
And what does he say? 

Mrs. Spencer. 
He says it may be all for the best. 

Kate. 

[Irritated.'] Oh ! ISTow, isn't that just like 
a curate? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

He isn't exactly a curate, dear. He's a locum 
tenens. 

Kate. 

Well, then — isn't that just the sort of thing 
a locum tenens would say? Do any real people 
know ? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Only Bobby — and he only says he'd like to 
hill Heath. 

Kate. 
[AJfectionately.'] Oh, how sweet of Bobby. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Despondently. 1 But I suppose we can't do 
anything till we know where Heath is. 

Kate. 
Do you want him back? 



COUSIN KATE 33 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh, I don't know, I never had a word to say 
against him before — but what can I think of 
him now? 

Kate. 

Everything I have heard of him is so charming. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[With enthusiasm.'] Oh, he was so charm- 
ing — and so amusing ; he used to get me 
quite hysterical every Sunday night at supper. 
[Laughs.] You must get him to tell you that 
story about Miss Murphy and the Banshee. 
[They both laugh.] And he was so kind to us 
all, so attentive to me and so nice with Bobby 
— and his devotion to Amy was beautiful. 

Kate. 
It was a good match for Amy, wasn't it? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Yes — You never thought me — a scheming 
woman, did you, Kate? 

Kate. 
[Gravely.] No, never. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

No, but still Heath happens to have a very 
good income, and he's very clever. They say 



34 COUSIN KATE 

he's sure to be made an R. A. some day. And 
he took such a pretty old house near here — you 
know I wrote and told you about it. 

Kate. 
Oh, yes, of course. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

And how beautifully he was furnishing it — 
It's called Owlscot. [Pronounc& like " Ascot. "] 

Kate. 
Owlscot? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Yes, because of the owls. Owls' cot, you know. 

Kate. 

{^Delighted.] Oh, are there owls in the gar- 
den? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

No, there aren't any, but Heath says it looks 
as if there ought to be, so he called it Owls' Cot. 
He said perhaps the owls would come if they saw 
it on the gate-posts. 

Kate. 
[Laughing. 1 I'm sure I should like Heath. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Amy thought people would think the name 



COUSIN KATE 35 

silly, so he said she could call it Owlscot, which 
isn't a bad sounding name for a house, do you 
think? 

Kate. 

No, I think it's delightful. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Heath's full of funny little fancies like that, 
but he's kind and thoughtful, too. When I said 
I couldn't afford to send Bobby to a public school 
he asked if he might help with the expenses — 
and he did it so nicely. 

Kate. 

[With decision.'] Amy mustn't lose such a 
nice man as that. We'll get him back for her 
somehow. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Cheering up considerably.'] Oh, Kate, I knew 
it would be better when you came. 

Kate. 

Ah, but we haven't got him back yet. [She 
reflects before she speaks.] When did Amy 
become so good? 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Simply.] She's always been good. 

Kate. 
Yes — but not as bad as this. 



36 COUSIN KATE 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I fancy Mr. Bartlett has made her think more 
deeply. He's a very earnest man. 

Kate. 

l^Slaps her hands together.'] Then that locum 
tenens is at the bottom of it all. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[LooJcs up, surprised.] All what? 

Kate. 

Has he been preaching sermons about the 
selfishness of married couples, and the elimina- 
tion of passion? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Still more surprised.] He gave us a very 
powerful sermon on that subject a few Sundays 
ago. 

Kate. 

[Nods her head.] That's where she got it 
from. I knew she didn't think of that herself. 
Sarah, that locum tenens is a bad man. Don't 
you let him come near the place again. 

[Jane enters. 
Jane. 

Mr. Bartlett, mum. 

[Mrs. Spencer and Kate are hoth start- 
led. Mr. Bartlett enters, carrying his 



COUSIN KATE 37 

hat. Kate is perfectly composed. Mrs. 
Spencer is exceedingly embarrassed. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Confused.'] Oh, Mr. Bartlett, this is Cousin 
Kate. [Indicating Kate.] Miss Cousin Kate, 
I ought to say, I mean Miss — 

Kate. 
[Prompting her.] Curtis, dear, Curtis. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Yes. I couldn't remember your name for an 
instant. This is Mr. — [Confused.] Now I've 
forgotten yours. 

Kate. 

[Comes to the rescue by cordially extending her 
hand to Mr. Bartlett^ as she says sweetly.] We 
were just speaking of you as you came in, Mr. 
Bartlett. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Trying to maJce things smooth.] Yes, and 
Mr. Bartlett has read some of your books, Kate. 
[Mr. Bartlett loohs embarrassed. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Seeing his embarrassment, becomes embar- 
rassed herself.] Oh ! 



38 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

[Sweetly to Me. Bartlett.] You didn't like 
them, did you? A bishop once told me they 
ought to be publicly burnt. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Oh, I don't think they are as bad as that. 

Kate. 

{^Quaintly to Mrs. Spencer.] Thank you, 
Sarah. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

But then, I don't know what they are about 
half the time. 

[Kate laughs and moves away. 

Bartlett. 

{Places his hat on the table, pausing to give 
importance to his speech.'\ I have called to tell 
you that Mr. Heath Desmond has come home. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Joyfully.] Oh, that is good news. Oh, Kate, 
he's come back. [To Mr. Bartlett.] Have 
you seen him? 

Bartlett. 

Yes, I have spoken to him. 

[He pauses and lool-s deliberately at Kate, 
who supposes she isn't wanted. 



COUSIN KATE 39 

Kate. 

[To Mrs. Spencer as she goes towards the 
door.'} I'll go and take my things off. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Don't go, dear. [Kate stops; Mrs. Spencer 
turns to Bartlett.] You can say anything 
before her. Now, tell us all about it. [Sitting 
on the sofa.] Sit down, Kate. 

[Kate sits down, watching Mr. Bartlett 
narrowly as he speal's. He sits rather 
reluctantly, addressing himself exclu- 
sively to Mrs. Spencer. 

Bartlett. 

I saw him enter his rooms, so I called, and 
taking the prerogative of the clergyman of the 
parish, I taxed him with his unaccountable disap- 
pearance. 

[A shade of irritation crosses Kate's face, 
Mr. Bartlett fpauses and looks at her. 
She returns his look, smiles, betraying 
no feeling of any sort. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
And what did he say? 

Bartlett. 

He said he would rather not discuss his affairs 
with me. 



40 COUSIN KATE 

[Kate looks pleased. Mr. Bartlett 
pauses as before and looks at Kate. 
She returns his look as before. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

And so you — 

Bartlett. 

I had a duty to perform, and so I was not 
abashed by his rebuff. [Kate titters. Mr. 
Bartlett glares at her. She clears her throat 
and looks away.] I sketched briefly the distress 
he had caused in this household. Then I asked 
him if he intended to return. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Yes, yes? 

Bartlett. 

He says he considers himself free, unless your 
daughter sends for him at once. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
{^Looks from one to the other."] Why? 

Bartlett. 

I promised to convey a message from her or 
from you. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Well, Amy must write to him. I'll go and tell 
her. [Rises and goes towards the door.] 



COUSIN KATE 41 

[Kate rises, prepared to follow Mrs. 
Spencer. 

Bartlett. 

[Rising.'] Excuse me. [Mrs. Spencer stops. 
He speaks importantly.] Have you decided what 
message to send ? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

He must have a note asking him to come, if 
that's what he's waiting for. 

Kate. 
Of course. 

Bartlett. 

Is there not a wiser alternative? 

[Bartlett looJcs at Kate, hoping she will 
go. Kate deliberately sits down, show- 
' ing she intends to stay. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Comes toivards Mr. Bartlett.] I don't 
think I quite grasp your meaning. 

Bartlett. 

Well, then, is Mr. Desmond the man to trust 
your daughter to? I do not wish to say any- 
thing against his character, but he has always 
seemed to me a — a — frivolous man. And is 
not his present conduct a sign of inconstancy? 



42 COUSIN KATE 

Your daughter is on the eve of taking perhaps 
the most important step in her life. Is it not 
well to pause while there is yet time? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Much perturbed; appeals to Kate.] What 
do you think, Kate? 

Kate. 

IColdly.^ Does it matter what anybody thinks 
except Amy? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

But of course it was very funny of Heath to 
run away like that, and he might do it again. 

Kate. 

Oh, Sarah! 

Bartlett. 

After I have delivered her message, it may be 
too late for her to retreat from her promise — 
with honour. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Looks at Kate, who makes no movement, then 
turns to Bartlett.] Perhaps you had better 
see Amy yourself. [Kate tries to attract the 
attention of Mrs. Spencer in order to stop her 
saying this. Mrs. Spencer doesn't notice Kate's 
movement.] You may be able to put it — more 
— forcefully than I can. 



COUSIN KATE 43 

Bartlett. 

[Readily.'] I will most willingly interview 
her, if you wish, but before doing so I have some- 
thing to say to you which — it is impossible to 
say — before — a third person. [Stares at Kate. 
Kate rises, smiles at Mrs. Spencer, and goes 
out hy the window without looking round. Mr. 
Bartlett approaches Mrs. Spencer.] 

Bartlett. 

If Mr. Desmond deserts your daughter now, 
she will naturally feel humiliated. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Sorrowfully.] Oh, yes — can't you see? 

Bartlett. 

And as — I wish — to save her all the pain 
I can, and as I find her essential to my own hap- 
piness, I desire to tell her that if she releases 
herself from this engagement — she need not be 
humiliated — for I would then come forward and 
offer her — myself. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

That wouldn't be quite the same thing — would 
it? 

Bartlett. 

I think that she should know that she has this 
alternative before she communicates with Mr. 
Desmond. 



44 COUSIN KATE 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Duhiotisly.] I wish you'd let me see what 
Kate says. 

IHe looks momentarily uneasy, then re- 
covers himself. 

Bartlett. 
She is a stranger to me. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Yes, yes — I see. 

Bartlett. 

As your daughter is so young and her present 
situation so delicate — I thought it was my duty 
to ask your permission before speaking to her. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Troubled.] I don't know whether I ought to 
let you see her or not. 

Bartlett. 
It cannot do her any harm to hear me. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Impressed hy this remarh.'] N'o. She isn't 
obliged to accept you, is she? 

Bartlett. 
Certainly not. 



COUSIN KATE 45 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I suppose you'd better speak to her. If you'll 
wait here I'll send her to you. 

[Mrs. Spencer goes out. Kate enters 
with her hat in her hand. Both she 
and Bartlett feel constrained when 
they find themselves alone. They look 
at each other in turns before speaking. 
Kate places her hat on the table. 

Kate. 

\_Pleasantly.'] What very pleasant weather we 
are having. ■ 

Bartlett. 
I beg your pardon. 

Kate. 

[Clears her throat and speaks more distinctly.'] 
What very pleasant weather we are having. 

Bartlett. 
Oh, yes — but I think there'll be rain* soon. 

Kate. 

{Pleasantly.'] Possibly storms. [Smiles 
sweetly at him.] 

[She sits down, not looking at him. He 
looks at her uneasily before he speaks. 



46 COUSIN KATE 

Baetlett. 

[Takes his hat.] Will you kindly tell Miss 
Spencer I will await her in the garden? 

Kate. 
[Pleasantly.] Yes — I'll tell her. 

Baetlett. 
Thank you. 

[He goes out by the window. As soon as 
he is out of sight, Kate jumps up, goes 
towards the ivindow and glances in the 
direction he has gone. Mrs. Spencer 
enters. Kate comes quickly towards 
her as she speaks. 

Kate. 

He's gone into the garden. Are you going to 
let him see her? 

Mrs. Spencer. 
I've just told Amy. 

Kate. 
Is he going to ask her to marry him? 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Kate — you've been listening? 

KIate. 
No, I haven't. 



COUSIN KATE 47 

Mrs. Spencer. 
How else could you know? It's miraculous. 

Kate. 

Don't you think it's very dangerous to let her 
see him now? Heath has hurt her pride; she's 
smarting. Cant you remember how it felt at 
her age ? I'm so afraid she'll sacrifice the future 
to save the present. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Periurled.] But I've told Mr. Bartlett I'd 
send Amy to him. 

Kate. 

Send her to me first. 

[Amy enters. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

But how can I explain it to him ? 

Kate. 

[Glances at Amy, then says rapidly to Mrs. 

Spencer.] Don't explain it. Go and show him 

the nasturtiums or the lobelias or whatever's out. 

[Pushes Mrs. Spencer out at the window. 

Mrs. Spencer disappears. 

Amy. 
Mother said Mr. Bartlett wanted to see me. 



48 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

Yes. He's waiting for you in the garden. He 
brought a message for you. 

Amy. 
From Heath — mother told me. 

Kate. 
What reply are you going to send? 

Amy. 
I don't know yet. 

Kate. 

Hadn't you better make up your mind before 
you go and see Mr. Bartlett? 

Amy. 

Mother said he had something very important 
to say to me. I think I had better hear what it 
is first. \^Going towards the window.l 

Kate. 

Your reply to Heath is more important. [Amy 
hesitates.'] You want to do what's right, don't 
you? 

Amy. 

[Hesitatingly.'] Yes. ['With conviction.] Yes 
— I do. Do you think I ought to forgive Heath? 



COUSIN KATE 49 

Kate. 
[Quietly.'] I thought he had to forgive you? 

Amy. 

[After a pause, during which Kate watches 
her closely.] What message do you think I ought 
to send him? 

Kate. 

I think I should write and say you are sorry 
for what you said to him, and that you see now 
that it was a little piece of presumption for a 
young girl to talk that way to a grown-up man. 
[Amy turns and stares at Kate.] And ask him 
to forgive you because you are so young and 
inexperienced — and he will, because you are so 
pretty. 

Amy. 

But that is putting myself entirely in the 
wrong? 

Kate. 
Weren't you? 

Amy. 

No. I blame myself very much for losing my 
temper with him. But I can't take back what 
I said before. It isn't a question of what / wish 
— but of right and wrong. 

Kate. 

And are you sure that a young girl who has 
never been anywhere much or seen anything par- 



50 COUSIN KATE 

ticular is the proper judge of what is right and 
wrong for a man ten years older than herself? 
And is all his goodness to go for nothing? Amy, 
dear, you'd be a fool to let that man go — and 
just think — he chose you — who bring him 
nothing but your little self — out of the whole 
world. 

Amy. 

Am I to thank him for loving me? 

Kate. 

Yes. You would if you realised how many 
girls there are who would make good wives and 
how few men who would make good husbands. 

Amy. 

But I can't give up my principles. I'm pre- 
pared to suffer for them. 

Kate. 

Well, don't be like most people who suffer for 
their principles, and make everybody else suffer 
for them too. If we want to marry we must be 
prepared to make compromises — 

Amy. 
It may be that I shall do my duty better singly. 

Kate. 
I'm sure you'll get into Heaven sooner by doing 



COUSIN KATE 51 

your duty to your neighbour, than by being very 
good all by yourself. I mustn't urge you. I 
only want to save you from making the same 
mistake I made. I wouldn't make compromises, 
I demanded the perfect man. Now I know there 
isn't one. So I've had disappointment after dis- 
appointment, till I have to face the worst one 
of all — for our lives are empty if we aren't loved. 
A woman's life is so meaningless by itself. 
And I have a great deal in my life. I have a 
profession, I'm successful, I'm invited and wel- 
comed everywhere — but I'm lonely, Amy, — 
desperately lonely. I'd give it all up for a real 
home with a husband and children. And look 
how much worse it is for women with no object 
in life — no work and no children. I only want 
you to be happy, and not disappointed, like me. 

Amy. 

[Kisses Kate softly on the cJieeTc.'] I think 
I'd better write to him — and ask him to come 
back. Oh, Cousin Kate, you make me feel so 
small. 

[Kate puts her arms about Amy, who 
falls on her shoulder, weeping a little. 

Kate. 

[Pets herj a little overcome with emotion.'] 
I'm not very wise myself, dear, but I've knocked 
about so much I want you to be taken care of. 
Oh, it must be so beautiful to be taken care of. 



62 COUSIN KATE 

[Amy goes to the writing-desk and sits, 
drying her eyes. 

Amy. 

I think I'll just write and tell Heath I don't 
know much. [Takes a sheet of paper and begins 
to write a noie.] 

Kate. 

Amy — Amy! Perhaps you had better go and 
see Mr. Bartlett before you write that letter. 

Amy. 

No, I'd rather not. I'm sure I'm doing right 
to ask Heath to forgive me. [Amy writes the 
letter. When she has finished it she turns to 
Kate.] Will this do? [She holds out the letter. 
Kate comes towards her, takes it and reads it 
as Amy addresses the envelope.'] 

Kate. 

That's very sweet. [Gives it hack to Amy, 
who puts it in envelope.'] Now lick it up. [Amy 
fastens it, then rises.] Mr. Bartlett said he 
would take your answer to Heath. Shall we go 
and give it to him? 

Amy. 

[Shyly giving letter to Kate.] You give it 
to him. I don't think I'll see him now. 

[Amy goes out. Kate marches towards 



COUSIN KATE 53 

the window, waving the letter trium- 
phantly till she meets Mrs. Spencer 
coming in from the garden. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Where's Amy? Isn't she coming? 

[Enter Mr. Bartlett, following Mrs. 
Spencer. 

Kate. 

No. [Showing the letter.'] This is her reply 
to Mr. Desmond. [Turns to Bartlett.] Which 
you so kindly offered to convey. [Gives the 
letter to Mr. Bartlett.] 

Mrs. Spencer. 
But isn't she going to see Mr. Bartlett? 

Kate. 
She asked me to deliver her letter for her. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh ! [She turns to Bartlett with an embar- 
rassed smile.] 

Bartlett. 

I will take this to Mr. Desmond. 

Kate. 

Thank you. [Bartlett goes out. Kate "turns 
to Mrs. Spencer.] She's asked him to come 
back. 



<t^ 



54 COUSIN KATE 

Mrs. Spencee. 

[SinTcs comfortably on a chair.'] Oh, I'm so 
relieved. Mr. Bartlett has been upsetting me so. 
He got me so that I didn't know whether I wanted 
Heath back or not. 

Kate, 

[Apprehensively.] I suppose he'll take the 
letter at once. You see we've wasted a lot of 
time already, and Heath considers himself free 
unless he hears at once. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Mr. Bartlett knows that. 

Kate. 

[Reassured.] But he doesn't know what is in 
the letter. He'll be in a hurry to find out. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Smiling comfortably.] So we shall have the 
wedding on Friday after all. 

Kate. 

[Brightly.] And Amy will be the bride, and 
you'll give her away, and Bobby will be best man. 
[Half humorously, half sadly.] And I shall just 
be one of the guests and throw rice. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Laughing.] Oh, Kate, you are so funny. 
[Seriously.] What did you say to Amy? 



COUSIN KATE 55 

Kate. 

I told her the best thing a woman could have 
was a home with a husband and a baby. 

Mrs. Spencee. 

[Mildly surprised.'] Why, Kate, that isn't at 
all the way you write in those books of yours. 

Kate. 

[Half -laughing, half in earnest.'] I shan't 
write any more of those silly books. I thought 
I was being so clever, but I was showing my 
ignorance all the time. My next book shall be 
all about love; my hero and heroine shall be 
married and go and live in a dingy little house 
— but it will be a palace to them. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Lool's penetratingly at Kate.] Kate, I be- 
lieve you have something to tell me. [Goes to- 
wards her.] 

Kate. 

[Moving away in agitation.] No, I haven't. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I've been so absorbed in Amy's trouble I 
haven't had time to think of you. But now 
you've come and made it all right for us. [Goes 
towards her again, speahing emotionally.] Oh, 
Cousin Kate, what should we do without you? 



56 COUSIN KATE 

[Takes Kate's hand. Kate hangs her head. 
Mrs. Spencer speaks coaxingly.'] Now, do tell 
me — are you in love? 

Kate. 

Oh, I don't know. I think I must be. Yes, 
I am. I know I am. [Breaks away from Mrs. 
Spencer.] 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Do tell me. 

Kate. 

No, no, I can't. Besides — there's nothing to 
tell. 

[Amy enters. 

Amy. 

Mother, don't you think someone should go 
over to Owlscot? The drawing-room hasn't been 
aired for two days, and the piano is there. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
How thoughtful you are. Amy. Whom shall 
we send? 

Kate. 

I'll go. 

Amy. 

[Surprised.'] You ? 

Kate. 
Yes, I need a walk and some fresh air. 



COUSIN KATE 67 

Amy. • 

I'll go with you. 

Kate. 

No. You must stay in case Heath comes — 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Then I'll go. 

Kate. 

No. [Gets her hat.] You have to hurry on 
with Amy's trousseau. [They look at her; she 
becomes more agitated, then goes to Mrs. 
Spencer.] Can't you see I want to go alone? 
I shall have hysterics if I'm opposed. [Puts on 
her hat and gloves, and takes her sunshade, 
through the following scene. To Amy.] Tell 
me the way, please. 

Amy. 
You keep along the high road. 

Kate. 

Yes. 

Amy. 

Till you come to a pond covered with green 
slime. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

It's shorter across the fields. 

Amy. 
But she'll lose her way. 



58 COUSIN KATE 

• Kate. 

What do I do when I come to the pond covered 
with green slime? 

Amy. 

Take the second turning to the left. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Isn't it the third turning? 

Amy. 
No, the second. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Murmuring to herself.] Oh, yes. The third 
is a private road. 

Kate. 
Second to the left. 

Amy. 

Then you walk along till you come to our 
house. It's a white cottage with a gable and a 
lot of fir-trees in the garden; you can't miss it. 
The name is on the gate-post : " Owlscot." 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Owl's cot, you know. 

Kate. 
I'll find it. [Goes towards the window.1 



COUSIN KATE ^ 59 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Crossing to the writing-desh.'] Wait a min- 
ute. You'll want the key. [Opens a drawer cmd 
takes out a large front-door key.] 

Amy. 
Someone else will have to go to light the fire. 

Kate. 
[Taking the key.] I'll do that. 

Amy, 

Oh, will you? Only in the drawing-room 
because of the piano. 

Kate. 

Yes, yes, I'll attend to everything. 

[As she goes out of the window Mrs. 
Spencer and Amy both follow her, 
speaking together. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

You'd better take an umbrella. It's going to 
rain. It looks very cloudy. 

Amy. 

Don't forget to fasten the windows, and the 
ones upstairs as well. [Cousin Kate disappears 
in the garden.] 



60 COUSIN KATE 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Turning to Amy.] What a jewel Cousin 
Kate is. I knew things would be better when 
she came. 

Amy. 

Yes, I was so undecided before, but I feel 
content now. I know I've done right. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Embracing Amy.] My good little girl! 
[Kisses her ivith a sigh of satisfaction.^ Now 
I must finish marking your night-dresses. 

Amy. 

I'll go and get them out. 

[Amy goes out. Bobby enters whistling 
from the garden. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Hullo, how was it you didn't meet Cousin 
Kate? 

Bobby. 

I hid in the waitin' room till she'd gone, 
because she got out of the same carriage with 
Heath. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

The same carriage with Heath! How funny! 
Did you speak to Heath? 



COUSIN KATE 61 

Bobby. 

Not then, but I've just been to his lodgin's. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Had he got Amy's letter? 

Bobby. 
No. He said he'd been waitin' and waitin' 
for it, and when I said she'd been in the house 
all day, he said he supposed she wasn't goin' to 
send it. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Concerned.] Well, what's Mr. Bartlett been 
doing ? 

Bobby. 

When I was comin' away, I saw Mr. Bartlett 
go and leave a letter at Heath's door — about 
two minutes ago. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

He took long enough about it. [Smiling.]^ 
Heath must have read it by now. 

Bobby. 

But when Mr. Bartlett left the letter Heath 
had gone away again. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Dismayed.1 Gone away ! Gone away again 
without getting Amy's letter. Oh, dear! 



62 COUSIN KATE 

Bobby. 
He was only goin' to Owlscot. 

Mks. Spencer. 

[Cheerfully,] Oh, Cousin Kate will be able 
to explain it all to him. She's just gone to 
Owlscot. 



CUETAIN. 



THE SECOND ACT 

SCENE : — A sitting-room at Owlscot. It is an 
old room with panelled walls and beams 
across the ceiling. Opposite the audience 
there is a wide casement with diamond panes. 
There is a door in the wall on the left-hand 
side of the audience, and a deep fireplace 
opposite the door. Beside the fireplace is 
an old oaTc settle, facing the audience. A 
piano stands against the wall beside the door, 
nearer the audience than the door; nearer 
still to the audience beside the piano stands 
a chair. Over this chair there is a stag's 
head with antlers. There is a round table 
near the centre of the stage and a small 
table betiveen the fireplace and the window, 
with a big brass candlestick upon it; several 
oah chairs, etc. Curtains are drawn across 
the casement so that when the curtain rises 
the scene is very dimly lighted. 

The stage is empty at first. Then a door is heard 
to shut with a bang. Footsteps are heard 
approaching over bare wooden floors. 

[Enter Kate, dressed as in Act I, with 
the front-door hey in her hand. She 
63 



64 COUSIN KATE 

closes the door, and looks around the 

room. 

Kate. 
[In a sepulchral tone as she looks about her.'\ 
All alone in an empty house. [She sniffs twice 
as if the room were close.] Oh! how stuffy. 
[Places the key, with her gloves and parasol, on 
the table, also her coat, goes to the window and 
draws the curtains. She throws the casement 
open wide, letting in the daylight. As she turns 
from the window she sees the piano.'] What a 
grand chance to try my voice ! [Opens the 
piano, plays a scale, standing, then hums a tune 
in a light voice. Lets out her voice in an arpeg- 
gio scale. Strikes several notes on the piano till 
she finds the top note of her arpeggio. Speaks 
disappointedly.] Only E. [Plays an arpeggio 
scale in F on the piano again, takes a breath and 
begins to sing her arpeggio scale, but funks the 
high note.] 

[A mans voice sings the scale without. 

Kate starts violently and shuts the 

piano with a bang. 

[Heath Desmond hoists himself on to the 
window-sill without and leans into the 
room. He is a man about thirty, 
though it is difficult to guess his age 
from his appearance. He looks young. 
His temperament is far more Latin than 
British. He is gay and whimsical, and 
his mind is rapid and fanciful. He is 



COUSIN KATE 65 

so extraordinarily franh and direct in 
his approach that it is impossible to 
feel a stranger in his presence. He is 
immensely daring, hut so tactful that 
he is never impertinent. He wears 
flannels and a straw hat. 

Kate. 
[Concerned.] What are you doing here? 

Heath. 
[Unconcerned.} What are you doing here? 

Kate. 
Never mind, you shouldn't have followed me. 

Heath. 

[Pleasantly.} If you will choose a house with 
nobody in it, — 

Kate. 

[Interrupting him indignantly.} I hope you 
don't think I came here to give you an opportu- 
nity. 

Heath. 

I thought I wouldn't miss one. [He swings 
into the room.} 

Kate. 

[Betraying a little alarm.} You mustn't come 
in. 



66 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 

Why not? Is this your house? [TaJces his 
hat off.] 

Kate. 
[Faltering.] No — but — 

Heath. 
Then it's neutral ground — like the train. 

Kate. 

[Goes a little towards him and speaks per- 
suasively and seriously.] But if I ask you to 
go — 

Heath. 

[LooTcs at her, smiling.'] You'd be as rude as 
if you asked me to get out of the railway car- 
riage. 

Kate. 

Then I must go myself. 

[She turns io the table and is about to 
gather up her sunshade and gloves, etc. 
He goes towards her as he speaks. 

Heath. 

That's as rude as if you got out of the railway 
carriage because I got in. 

Kate. 
[Hesitates, still trying to be haughty and indig- 



COUSIN KATE 67 

nant.'] You Jcnow you've no right to come in 
here. 

Heath. 

What right have you? [She holds the key up 
to sheiu him. He bends over it, examines it 
curiously, not touching it.'\ How on earth did 
you get it? 

Kate. 

I am here at the request of the owner of this 
house. 

Heath. 

\To himself; turning away.~\ Oh — a friend 
of my landlord. 

Kate. 

Do you still dispute my right to be here? 

Heath. 

[Turning to her.] No, I only wish to estab- 
lish my own. 

Kate. 
You can't. 

Heath. 

[TTi/^ frank good humour which weakens her 
dignity.] I could if you asked me to stay. I'll 
be very good. 

Kate. 

[Hesitating.'] But you know we oughtn't to 
stay here together. 

Heath. 

Why not, if we want to? 



68 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 
I didn't say I wanted to. 

Heath. 

To say you oughtn't to is about the same as 
to say you'd like to. If you really don't want 
to, it's so much easier — 

Kate. 

[A hroad smile overspreads her face and she 
turns to him good-humour edly J] Oh, stop ! 
\_8he means " Stop your rigmarole."'] 

Heath. 
Didn't we have fun in the train? 

Kate. 

{LooTcs at him brightly.] Yes. [Remember- 
ing she ought to he strict with him.] But now 
you've turned our fun into indiscretion. 

Heath. 

[Half-sitting on the edge of the table, speaks 
with enthusiasm, not noticing her seriousness.] 
How we flew through the woods and over the 
towns ! 

Kate. 

You've made me feel ashamed, and I didn't 
want to. 



COUSIN KATE 69 

Heath. 

[Carrying on his former speech.'] Like a god 
and a goddess dropped from two planets. You 
said so yourself as we crossed the viaduct. I 
was Mars — you Venus — 

Kate. 

[Interrupting him indignantly.] I never said 
I was Yenus. 

Heath. 

[MaTcing her a profound how.] Permit me to 
complete the simile. 

Kate. 

[Forgetting herself for a moment, takes his 
vein of mock gallantry and drops him a deep 
curtsey.] Oh — h — h! [Suddenly rememher- 
ing herself, she recovers her seriousness.] I think 
it's time you flew back to your planet. 

[Both the next speeches are spoken at the 
same time. Kate is seriously trying 
to impress Heath; he begins his 
speech in a loiv voice after she has begun 
hers, and speaks faster, wnd louder as 
he goes on — trying to talk her down. 

Kate. 

I hoped there was no harm in strangers con- 
fiding in each other as we did. I thought we 
had risen above convention, but by coming here 
you remind me that we sank below it. I see now 



70 COUSIN KATE 

that we were not two souls impelled to mutual 
utterance, but just two people who gossiped to- 
gether before they were introduced. We ought 
never to have met again. 

Heath. 

And I was wondering how you would look with- 
out your hat. It became quite an obsession with 
me. It is still. I should so like to see you 
without your hat. It wouldn't be much trouble. 
There's a looking-glass just behind you. I think 
you might take your hat off. [They have come 
towards each other as they speak, each trying 
to talk the other down. Kate, seeing how absurd 
the situation is, stops and laughs. Heath says 
plaintively. 1 Won't you please take your hat off? 

Kate. 

[Half -exasperated, half-amused, takes her hat 
off.] There! 

Heath. 

[Surveying her with admiration.'] Jolly! 

Kate. 

[Really pleased, hut appearing supercilious.] 
Thank you. [Turns to the looking-glass, pre- 
paring to put her hat on again.] 

Heath. 

No, don't. [She turns to him.] Don't put it 
on again. 



COUSIN KATE 71 

Kate. 
Why? 

Heath. 
I don't want you to go just yet. 

Kate. 
[Laughs. '\ Oh, but I must. 

Heath. 

Well, let me have a proper look at the hat first. 
It's quite the prettiest one I've seen this season. 

Kate. 

[Pleased, holding out the hat towards him.l 
I'm glad you like it; I trimmed it myself. 

[Heath pretends to examine the hat, and 
while he does so he takes it from her. 
She yields it without suspicion. He 
marches away with it. 

Kate. 

Well — you really have more assurance ! 

[He mounts the chair heside the piano and 
hangs the hat on the antlers above it. 
She watches him amazed and concerned. 

Kate. 
What are you putting it there for? 



72 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 

[Turns to her on the chair, smiling.'] To 
make assurance doubly sure. [Steps off the 
chair.] 

Kate. 

Do you think I can't get up there and get it? 

Heath. 

You can get up and get it. 

[Kate moves as if to get the hat. Heath 
sits in the chair beneath it, crosses his 
legs and folds his arms. Kate visibly 
annoyed, then turns to him and says 
seriously without betraying any temper. 

Kate. 

Don't you think you're rather taking advan- 
tage of me by coming here? 

Heath, 

[Smiling.] No, no — I don't. For as I so 
pithily remarked a moment ago, this is neutral 
ground. We are the same as in the train — only 
— we aren't getting along quite so fast. [Kate 
sits in a chair at some distance, turning it till 
it has its bach to him, expressing disapproval in 
every attitude. There is a short silence; Heath 
sighs heavily. She does not smile.] Shall we 
play and sing? [This amuses her. She smiles 
unseen by him, then frowns. Heath rises and 



COUSIN KATE 73 

comes towards her, speaking naturally and sin- 
cerely.] I say, you know — I don't want to — 

Kate. 

[Rises haughtily and moves away.] I don't 
think it is very polite of you to detain me here 
against my wish. 

[He thinks she is going to get her hat, so 
he rushes hack to his chair and sits. 

Heath. 
I wish you wouldn't pose so. 

Kate. 
[Loftily.] Pose ! 

Heath. 

Yes. You were so jolly and natural in the^ 
train. Now you are behaving just like any real 
lady would. 

Kate. 

I am sorry if I didn't behave like one then. 

Heath. 

Oh, one doesn't think about whether Andro- 
mache, or Sarah Siddons, or Saint Cecilia were 
real ladies. I had you up among them. [She 
smiles, pleased with his compliment. He comes 
towards her as he speaks. Her manner stiffens 
as he approaches her.] Whatever you do is sure 
to be all riffht. 



74 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

I'm not aware that I committed any unusual 
breach in speaking to a fellow traveller. [She 
moves off with an air, and looks off from the 
windoiv.] 

[He puts his hands in his pockets and 
watches her a little wistfully. 

Heath. 

You do disappoint me ! 

Kate. 

It isn't my fault if you formed a wrong opinion 
of me. 

Heath. 

[Judging the effect of his remark upon her.'] 
But I didn't think you were the kind of woman 
who'd talk about her soul and love to any man. 

Kate. 

[As he supposes, turns to him indignantly.] 
I'm not. 

Heath. 

[Meets her with a smile.] Of course you're 
not. I know you from her as well as I know you 
from this real lady with all her spikes out. [Kate 
moves away, pretending not to listen.] Women 
are such frightful cowards. They are always 
clamouring for emancipation and then — when 
the deliverer comes — they take fright and run. 



COUSIN KATE 75 

Kate. 

[MocJcingly.] How true — how true ! ! ! 

Heath. 

You know we agreed before, how absurd it was 
to have all these conventions keeping men and 
women apart — but I never saw anyone more 
conventional than you are now. I would be more 
consistent. [Turns away from her.^ 

Kate. 

[After a moment's reflection.'] Suppose I do 
consent to stay — [lie turns to her quickly] — 
just the fraction of a second longer — [She 
does not know how to finish her sentence.] 

Heath. 
Well — we could talk. 

Kate. 
That would be thrilling. 

Heath. 

[Laughs.] Don't be nasty about it. We might 
have tea, too. 

Kate. 

[Surprised into a laugh.] Here? 

Heath. 

Yes. We have to light a fire anyway, to air 
the room. 



76 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

[Surprised into seriousness.^ How do you 
know that? 

Heath. 

Well — haven't we? 

Kate. 

Yes, but — it strikes me as quite weird that 
you should know. 

Heath. 

[Going nearer, looTcs at her and speaks insin- 
uatingly.'] When two people are thoroughly 
sympathetic they often divine each other's 
thoughts. 

Kate. 

[Embarrassed under liis gaze, hut trying to 
carry it off lightly.] Do they? 

Heath. 

And since I know we have to light a fire to 
air — 

Kate. 

[Interrupting him.] You needn't be so proud 
of your divinations. That's the only thought of 
mine you ever divined. 

Heath. 
[Prolonging the word."] Ohllll 



COUSIN KATE 77 

Kate. 
[Faces him, defiantly.] Well? 

Heath. 
Shall I tell you some of the others? 

Kate. 
[Quickly.] No, thank you! 

Heath. 

Do let me. I am deeply interested in occult- 
ism. 

Kate. 

[Raising her voice and speaking quickly to 
stop him speaking.] Well, Fm not. I think it's 
a nasty, creepy subject, and if you think you 
read any more of my thoughts — You didn't — 
[Breaks off suddenly to say.] Dear me, how I am 
shouting. 

Heath. 

As I was saying, when you so rudely interrupted 
me, we have to light a fire here, anyway — on 
account of the piano. 

Kate. 

[Turns round to him quickly.] How do you 
know about the piano? Oh! [Goes towards him, 
and asks in some anxiety.] Do you know who I 
am? 



78 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 
No. Do you know who I am? 

Kate. 
No. 

Heath. 

Would you like to? 

Kate. 
No. [Moves away.] 

Heath. 

It would rather interrupt our romance to 
exchange cards, wouldn't it? 

Kate. 

Yes, — no, that is, — we aren't having a 
romance. 

Heath, 

Not yet, but when we get cosy over our tea- 
cups we ought to feel quite romantic. 

Kate. 

[Turns to him.] You talk as if this were our 
house. 

Heath. 

We are Silverlocks and this is the house the 
three bears lived in. 



COUSIN KATE 79 

Kate. 

[Ignoring his remark.] Besides — how do you 
know there is any tea here? 

Heath. 

Silverlocks didn't know she would find any 
soup. 

Kate. 
What are you talking about? 

Heath. 

[In a tone of serious reproach.] Do you mean 
to say you don't remember the story of Silverlocks 
and the three bears ? 



Kate. 



No. 



Heath. 

You ought to be ashamed of yourself. [She 
shrugs her shoulders and turns to the fireplace.] 
Eemembering nursery stories is one of the chief 
signs of election. It shows you are still a child; 
that you haven't forgotten the days of games and 
dreams, when your spirit was too sportive to be 
satisfied with a world of facts, so made its own 
world of fancies. That's the kingdom of the 
children. Nearly everyone leaves it afterwards. 
But the elect always hold their places there. 
They never forget the games and the dreams. 
That's what gives distinction to their humour 



80 COUSIN KATE 

and imagination; a charm to the point of view; 
the signs by which their scattered spirits beckon 
each other after they are grown up. And how 
could they hold their places in the kingdom if 
they forgot exactly how it felt to be a child ? And 
how could they remember that, if they forgot 
anything so important as the nursery stories? 

Kate. 

[Charmed with his speech, sits amiably on the 
settle.] Tell me about Silverlocks and the three 
bears. 

Heath. 

Well — she went for a walk one day. Silver- 
locks did, and she came to a little house in a 
wood where the three bears lived, but they were 
all out. So first she drank their soup — at least 
she only tasted the father and mother bears' soup, 
but she drank the little one's all up. There's a 
picture of her drinking it out of a blue bowl. 

Kate. 

[Suddenly.] Oh, yes. She had a yellow dress 
on. 

Heath. 

[Delighted.] Yes. You do remember her? 
[Drops beside Kate on the settle.] I knew you 
must be one of us when I found you singing grand 
opera all by yourself. That's one of the signs. 



COUSIN KATE 81 

Kate. 

[Ajnused.] I never met anyone like you in 
my life. 

Heath. 

ISentimentally.^ I've been looking for you 
a long time. 

Kate. 

lEmharrassed.'] Hadn't we better — [Rises.] 

Heath. 

[Jumping up cheerfully.] Make tea — yes. 
We must hurry up and light a fire. The three 
bears ought to have done that before they went 
out. We want some paper first, then some chips, 
then some coal. 

Kate. 

[Protesting a little at his instructions.] I 
know how to lay a fire. 

Heath. 

[Taking a newspaper from his pochet.] Oh ! 
[Goes towards her.] Then will you crumple that 
up in the grate? [She takes the paper from him 
mechanically.] While I go and look for coal 
and stuff. [He goes out quicMy, leaving the door 
open. Kate crosses to the fireplace, stands still 
a moment, then throws the paper on the floor.] 

Kate. 

[With decision.] No, Kate, it won't do. 



82 COUSIN KATE 

[She crosses to the chair by the piano, 
mounts it and takes her hat from the 
antlers, steps off the chair, puts her hat 
on hastily, takes her sunshade and gloves 
and coat from the table, goes to the 
door, pushes it to, then goes to the win- 
dow, looks round at the door, then pulls 
up her skirts and prepares to mount the 
windowsill. As she steps on to the 
windowsill. Heath enters with a kettle 
in his right hand and a coal-box with 
coal and wood in his left. 

Heath. 

[Pauses on the threshold and looks at Aer.] 
Hullo ! 

Kate. 
[Scr earns. 1 Oh ! 

[She quickly lets her skirt down and looks 
round. Heath deposits the kettle and 
the coal-box on the floor, then goes 
towards her. 

Heath. 
Why? 

Kate. 
I'd better. 

Heath. 

Where's the harm? We could be so jolly 
together. You might trust me. I'm really nice. 
I'm not dangerous. 



COUSIN KATE 83 

Kate, 

Dangerous men aren't half as dangerous as 
nice ones. 

Heath. 

You'll feel all right about staying to tea — 
when you've had tea. 

Kate. 

But — I'd better not. 

Heath. 

You know you'll wish you had if you don't. 

Kate. 

It'll be better to wish I had than to wish I 
hadn't. 

Heath. 

I never met anyone I could get on with quite 
so well, but of course if you want to be prudish 
and think we ought to throw away such a good 
chance of being just our natural selves — 

[^Wanders toivards the piano, opens the top 
lid and peers among the wires with one 
eye on Kate. Kate remains standing 
on the window-seat in a state of inde- 
cision, thinMng she ought to go, hut 
longing to stay. Deciding not to go yet, 
she slowly lets fall her coat, her gloves. 



84 COUSIN KATE 

and her sunshade, one hy one on the win- 
dow-seat beside her. She glances at 
Heath. He appears to he taking no no- 
tice of her. She steps off the window- 
seat and stands still a moment, not quite 
knowing how to proceed. At last, re- 
ceiving no help from Heath, she boldly 
seizes the kettle, hurries with it to the 
hearth, and kneels in front of the fire- 
place. 

Kate. 
Now the chips. 

[Heath brings her the coal-box with the 
wood, etc. 

Heath. 

Here they are, and the paper. [She lays the 
fire as she speaks.] 

Kate. 
By the way, wasn't it Silverlocks who had to 
look after the fire? 

Heath. 
[Giving her a match.] No, that was Cinder- 
ella. 

Kate. 

Oh, yes, with the ugly sisters. 

Heath. 
And the Prince — she fell in love with him. 



COUSIN KATE 85 

Kate. 
[Loolcs at Jiim.] Oh — [Lights the fire.'\ 

Heath. 

Yes. And she married him. 

Kate. 

Yes — but I wish you wouldn't talk so much 
when you see I'm busy. 

[He goes towards the door while she 
watches the fire. 

Heath. 

I'll go and look for cups and things. [Hes- 
itates near the door.] I say, you won't go away 
while I'm out, will you? 

Kate. 
What do you say? 

Heath. 

You won't go away while I'm out? 

[She takes off her hat and lays it on the 
settle for response, then turns to the 
fire again, stooping on the hearth and 
poking chips hettveen the bars, before she 
puts the kettle on. He watches her, 
then tiptoes to the seat, takes her hat 
and tiptoes out with it, half-running 



86 COUSIN KATE 

and glancing back at her as he goes. 
Kate sits on the hearth with a sigh of 
pleasure. 

Kate. 

[Talking aloud to herself.] Oh, Kate, why not 
for once in a way? It's good experience for you, 
and it may do to put in your next novel. If he 
gets too — [She rises and stands on the hearth.] 
You can make a few queenly gestures and sweep 
out. [Turns to the settle.] Where's my hat? 

[Heath enters. He has a common tea- 
pot and two cups hanging from the 
fingers of his right hand. In the same 
hand he carries some knives and spoons 
and two saucers and a butter-dish. In 
his left hand a bread trencher with 
Kate's hat on it. Half a loaf squeezed 
under one arm, and a milk- jug pressed 
against his side with the other. A small 
paper bag in his mouth. 

Heath. 

[Speaking with the bag in his mouth.] This 
is the tea in this bag. 

[Kate laughs when he enters, goes to him 
and helps him to deposit the things on 
the table. She now abandons herself to 
the spirit of the picnic. 

Heath. 
[With the bag in his mouth.] Take the tea. 



COUSIN KATE 87 

Kate. 

Give me the cups. Now the knives. Oh, be 
careful — now the teapot — now the tea — 
l^Takes the bag from his mouth and lays it down.^ 

Heath. 
Here's the milk. And here's the bread. 

Kate. 

Now, you watch the kettle while I lay the table. 
[He goes to the hearth, while she quickly 
arranges the things on the table, and 
puts tea in the teapot. 

Heath. 

I hope the three bears won't come home before 
we've finished. 

Kate. 

What happened to Silverlocks when they came 

home? 

Heath. 

" ' We'll kill the child and eat her for our dinner,' 
The Father growled ; but said the Mother : ' No, 
For supper she shall be, and I will skin her.' " 

Kate. 

[In a little squeahy voice.'] " ' No,' said the 
Little Cub, 'we'll let her go.'" [They both 
laugh as she pushes a loaf and hnife towards 



88 COUSIN KATE 

Heath, who joins her at the tahle.^ You cut, 
I'll butter. 

Heath. 

I'm awfully hungry — aren't you ? We didn't 
have much lunch, did we? Only one between us. 

Kate. 

I suppose you mean I didn't divide the chicken 
fairly. 

[She smiles at him. He laughs with pleas- 
ure, and goes on cutting bread as he 
speaks. 

Heath. 

I never thought when we finished our last meal 
that we'd be having the next together. I wish — 
[Givi7ig her a slice of bread as he says, senti- 
mentally.Ji I wish we could have all our meals — 

Kate. 

[To interrupt him.] I'm sure that kettle must 
be boiling. [Goes over to the hearth. Heath 
smiles to himself and wags his head, knowingly, 
when her back is turned. She looks at the kettle, 
then turns to him.'] What does a kettle do when 
it boils ? Does it just smoke ? 

Heath. 
I think it spits. 

Kate. 

It's beginning to growl a little. Does that 
mean anything? 



COUSIN KATE 89 

Heath. 

[Goes towards the kettle, a little anxiously.] 
I don't know. But I'm sure the lid comes off 
when it boils over. \_Bends down and peers at 
the Icettle, then says, humourously.] I wish we'd 
brought a cookery-book. [Kate laughs and 
kneels down in front of the kettle. He stands 
behind her, looking down at her.] I say. D'ye 
know, your hair's a little rufflled? 

Kate. 
[Amiably.] Is it — wl;iere? 

Heath. 

In that place it's so difficult for you to get at 
yourself. [Touches her hair.] 

Kate. 

[Loftily.] Oh. [Rises and moves slowly to 
the window, where she stands and looks out.] 

Heath. 

[Watching her.] The girl rose from the fender 
and fixing him with a haughty glance swept 
across the apartment with the air of a queen. 
She stood gazing wistfully across the park — 

[Kate laughs and turns from the window. 

Kate. 
It's no use pretending with you. 



90 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 

[Smiling frankly.'] Not the slightest. But of 
course it's all right for you to keep your spikes 
out for a little while. I don't see how a really 
nice woman could do anything else. 

Kate. 

[Comes towards him 'protesting .] I'm not a 
really nice woman, I mean — I'm an individual 
like you. [He looks up at her, smiles knowingly ; 
she becomes embarrassed.] Oh, the kettle. 
[Goes quickly to the fire.] 

Heath. 
Spikes ! 

Kate. 

[Anxiously looking at the kettle.] No — but 
it's — it's — 

Heath. 

[Excitedly, looking at the kettle.] It's spit- 
ting. 

Kate. 
Yes. Catch hold. 

Heath. 
It'll burn me. 

Kate. 

[Gives him her handkerchief.] Wrap this 
round. 

[He wraps the handkerchief round his left 



COUSIN KATE 91 

hand, takes the kettle off the fire and 
hurries to the table with it. 

Heath. 

Ah ! Oh ! [Yells as he pours the water into 
the teapot.] 

Kate. 

[Anxiously, as she comes to him.] Did you 
burn yourself? 

Heath. 

[Howls as he holds out his left hand to her 
with the handkerchief round it.] I think so. I 
think so. 

[She unwinds the handkerchief carefully 
and examines his hand. He grimaces 
when she looks at his face, and smiles 
when she looks at his hand. 

Kate. 

[Taking her handkerchief and dropping his 
hand.] No, you didn't. [Heath laughs, and 
puts the kettle hack in the fender. She turns to 
the table smiling.] Let's eat. [They sit oppo- 
site each other at the table. Kate makes the tea.] 

Heath. 
I like mine strong with lots of sugar. 

Kate. 
You'll have to wait till it mixes. 



92 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 

Brews is the word. 

[Kate laughs, then regards him steadily 
across the table. 

Kate. 
I don't know what you are. 

Heath. 
I'm Dublin. 

Kate. 

Is that why you're so unpractical? 

Heath. 

I had to tell you what a kettle does when it's 
ready. 

Kate. 

We must both be artists. 

Heath. 

We might be just a rich lady and gentleman 
who've always been too grand to work. 

Kate. 

Oh, no. They never enjoy themselves as much 
as this. [She pours out two cups of tea. When 
she puts the teapot down their eyes meet.'] 

Heath. 

[Slowly.] Well, at any rate we — are — oppo- 
site each other again. 



COUSIN KATE 93 

[Kate drops her eyes. Pushes one cup 
over to Heath. Takes her own. There 
is a short, embarrassed silence. 

Kate. 
Is your tea all right? 

Heath. 

\^DrinTcs; then says, seriously."] Yes, thank 
you. [^Then mocJcing the constraint of the sit- 
uation.] It's a charming afternoon, is it not? 

[Kate laughs. 

Kate. 

What possible connection can you have with a 
workaday world? 

Heath. 

I'm only rotting now so that I won't tell the 
truth. [Leans across the table.] Were you ever 
. in love? 

Kate. 
[Smiles thoughtfully.] I'm twenty-nine. 

Heath. 
[Confidentially.] Tell me about the first time. 

Kate. 
I can't remember which it was. 



94 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 
As many as that? 

Kate. 

[Simply.'] My world has been filled with two 
kinds of men: the men I loved and the men who 
loved me. They were never the same. [Leans 
bach.] Now I've told you the story of my life. 

Heath. 
Then you've never met him. 

Kate. 
I'm only twenty-nine. 

Heath. 
You will meet him. 

Kate. 

I don't intend to die until I do. 

[They laugh. They loth drinh and Heath 
watches her over his cup all the time. 
Kate meets Heath's eyes, puts her cup 
down, looks into it and stirs the dregs 
round with her spoon. She looTcs up 
again, meeting his eyes. She gives a ner- 
vous half-laugh and drops her eyes. 
Heath puts his cup down, watching her 
steadily. Kate grows more uneasy. 



COUSIN KATE 95 

Heath. 
Do you believe in love at first sight? 

Kate. 
Yes — no — that is — I don't know. 

Heath. 
It's the only real love, isn't it? 

Kate. 
Yes. 

Heath. 

You see someone pass, and all of a sudden, you 
get such a funny feeling in your throat. 

Kate. 

[Putting her hand to her heart.'] Yes — and 
here. 

Heath. 

Yes, and here. [Rubs his hnee."] Doesn't 
love at first sight catch you in your knees? 
[With enthusiasm.] And isn't it all grand and 
exciting and the only thing worth living for? 

Kate. 
[Sadly.] And isn't it soon over? 

Heath. 
It always is, but don't you feel that it needn't 



96 COUSIN KATE 

he, and that when you meet the perfect compan- 
ion — it won't be ? 

Kate. 

[Responding earnestly.'] Yes — 

Heath. 

[Pauses before he says, simply.'] I'm in love 
with you. 

Kate. 

[pisconcerted and trouMed.] Please — don't. 

Heath. 
You must have seen it. 

Kate. 

But — how can you — yet ? 

Heath. 
It takes no time to fall in love. 

Kate. 
You've spoilt everything by saying that — now. 

Heath. 
I shall never be more sure than now. 

Kate. 

But it's beginning at the wrong end to be 
lovers before you know if you can be friends. 



COUSIN KATE , 97 

Heath. 

Oh, no. If we are lovers we shall be friends. 
We can if we try. But we might be the best of 
friends, we couldn't become lovers with trying. 
So it's beginning at the right end to be lovers 
first. 

Kate. 

[After a moment's reflection.^ I'm sure that's 
not sound logic. 

Heath. 
Love isn't logical. 

Kate. 

[Turns to Mm slowly.^ But if you were in 
love with a woman you hardly knew, as you say 
you are now — [Pauses.^ 

Heath. 

[Sincerely.'] I shouldn't care how wicked or 
married she was. I should leave everything to 
follow her. 

Kate. 
[With enthusiasm.'] That's the way to love, 
isn't it? 

Heath. 

[Leaning towards her.] It's the way I love 
you. [She looJcs away from him.] Would you 
have to know everything about a man before you 
could care for him? 



98 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

[^Looking straight before her.'] No. If I 
loved him I could forgive him everything. But 
— {Her voice breaks with emotion.] I never 
thought anyone would love me like that. [He 
puts liis hand over hers which she rests on the 
table. She rises, half-afraid, looking at him and 
withdrawing her hand.] Oh, but you don't mean 
it. [He rises and goes towards her. She moves 
a little away, putting out her hands, imploring 
him not to approach her.] Please, please. [He 
goes slowly to the window and looks out.] 

Heath. 

It's going to rain. 

[The stage has gradually grown darker as 
if heavy thunder-clouds were gathering. 

Kate. 

[Hurriedly.] I must go. [She goes to get 
her hat and sunshade. A distant rumble of thun- 
der is heard.] 

Heath. 

There's going to be a storm. [Turns to her.] 
You can't go till it passes. 

Kate. 

[Nervously; taking her hat in her hand.] I 
don't mind walking in the rain, thank you. 



COUSIN KATE 99 

Heath. 

[Going towards her; speaking as a lover. '\ The 
storm might be rough and hurt you. I can't bear 
to think of the rain falling on you, or the wind 
blowing your face too hard. 

Kate. 

[LooTcs at him with gratitude and wonder as 
she lays her hat down again, then says slowly.'] 
Do you care like that ? 

Heath. 

How can I help caring? Doesn't everyone love 
you? [TaTces her hand.] 

Kate. 

[Slowly, with a faint smile.] Yes. But I 
don't think there's anyone else who'd think it 
mattered if I got caught in the rain. 

Heath. 

[Close to her, hends over her as he speaks, 
taking her hands in his. She looks at him half- 
charmed and half-afraid.] I'll take care of you. 
ril shelter you. 

Kate. 

[Hurriedly.] No, no. We mustn't. 

Heath. 
[Speaking in his soft lover's voice as his arms 



100 COUSIN KATE 

close round her.'] I want to shelter you always. 
[Drawing her closer and turning her towards 
him.J I love you! 

Kate. 

{^Breathlessly, alarmed, hut yielding gradually 
to his fascination.] Oh — but — what are we 
doing ? 

[He folds his arms fast round her. His 
face is close to hers. He looTcs in her 
eyes. He hisses her slowly on the mouth. 
She yields herself to him entirely. A 
peal of thunder surprises them. She 
draws herself away from him at the 
sound of it. She sinks into a chair, 
hursts into tears, huries her face on her 
arms and sohs. Heath goes quietly to 
the window, closes it, and comes hack to 
Kate. She is sohhing hitterly. Heath 
takes her hand in his and holds it. 

Kate. 

No, no, you don't mean it. [She rises to her 
feet and moves away from him, speaking ex- 
citedly.'] You're making love to me to see me 
yield. And then you'll despise me — and laugh 
at me. [He turns from her, looking very trour 
hied.] You're laughing now. [He turns his 
troubled face towards her. She softens in- 
stantly.] Oh ! [She becomes penitent.] For- 
give me, please, please forgive me. [He puts his 
arms about her; she looks in his face.] I could 



COUSIN KATE 101 

love yoTi so much. [^Slowly pushing him from 
her.} If I thought — [Dubiously, as she looks 
searchingly at him.] If I was sure — [Pauses. 
He looks at her before he speaks gently and 
earnestly.] 

Heath. 

I feel you are sincere because I've looked into 
your eyes. That's the only way lovers can ever 
know. 

Kate. 

[Turns to him responsively, then stops doubt- 
fully.] But you say that as if you'd had a great 
deal of experience. 

Heath. 

I'll tell you the truth. Once for a long time 
I thought I was in love, but now I know that I 
never loved anyone but you. 

Kate. 

[Joyfully looking in his face, draws suddenly 
bach from him, doubtful again.] Oh, but they 
always say that. [With a miserable little laugh.] 
I'm not quite so simple as — as not to know that 
there are men who make love out of curiosity. 
Who try to kiss a woman, not because they want 
to, but to see if she will or she won't. [Moves 
away from him.] 

Heath. 
I say, you know, it's not fair of you to take it 



102 COUSIN KATE 

for granted that I don't mean what I say, because 
— I do. 

Kate. 

[Comes impulsively towards him, putting her 
hands on his arms.^ I want you all to myself. 
[Holding him.'] You'll never kiss another 
woman, will you? 

Heath. 

[Smiling.] Never. 

Kate. 

[Impulsively.] You Avon't even speak to one, 
or look at one. 

Heath. 
No, dear, no. 

Kate. 

[BreaTcing away from him.] Oh, how do I 
know you won't? 

[He holds her firmly by the wrist, not 
letting her move away. 

Heath. 

[Almost sternly.] You don't know. You've 
got to trust me. 

Kate. 

[Turns to him, arrested by his authority, he- 
comes submissive.] Yes, I will. I'm not usually 
an angry woman, but I'm so afraid of losing you 
and I think I'm a little excited. [There is an- 
other flash of lightning, followed by a peal of 



COUSIN KATE 103 

thunder. She puts her hands over her et/es.] 
Oh, that lightning. It makes me so nervous. 

[He goes quietly towards the ivindow. 
She draws her hands from her eyes. 
Starts with alarm at seeing he is not at 
her side, then turns towards him ex- 
citedly. 

Kate. 

What are you doing? 

Heath. 

I'm going to draw the curtains so that you 
won't see the lightning. 

[He draws the curtains. Kate looks at 
him suspiciously. She quickly lights 
the candles. 

Heath. 

[As he turns from the window and sees her 
lighting the candles.'] Yes, that's a good idea. 
N^ow we shan't see it so much. [She looks at 
Mm suspiciously, her face strongly illuminated 
hy the light of the candles.] What is it? 

Kate. 

I thought you were going to make the room 
dark so that you could slip out and leave me. 
[He turns from her, puzzled ivhat to do. She 
starts towards him ivhen he turns from her, more 
excited than ever.] Why do you turn away? 
You're tired of me already. [He turns towards 



104 COUSIN KATE 

her imploringly. She draws hack.'] No, no. 
You only turn to me because I ask you. Oh, why 
did you follow me? You forced yourself on me. 
I'd have been strong another time — but I 
couldn't to-day — I couldn't — [Sobs hysteric- 
ally, and sinks upon the settle. Heath watches 
her gravely till her sobs subside a little. She 
becomes gradually calm as he speaks to her gently 
and firmly.] 

Heath. 

I shan't force myself upon you any more. But 
I'll never leave you while you let me stay. You 
must take my promise for that. If I'd known 
you for years I couldn't give you more now. You 
and I both know the real man and woman from 
the sham. We were quick to recognize each other. 
I believe in you forever. You must do the same 
for me if you want our love to last. 

[She rises and comes towards him, sub- 
missively. He holds out his hand to 
her. 

Kate. 
How you must hate me for giving way like 
this. 

Heath. 

[Gently, as he takes her hands.] No, dear, I 
understand. 

Kate. 
Do you, really? 



COUSIN KATE 105 

HEATri:. 

I love you for giving way, because by that I 
know I was the first. 

Kate. 

\_LooJcing in his face.'] Yes. You were. 
[Fondling his hand in both hers as she speaks.] 
And, after all, I suppose you really might fall 
in love with me at first sight. I did with you. 

Heath. 

[Smiling.] I loved you the minute I got in 
the railway carriage — no, before — when I put 
my toe on the step to get in. 

Kate. 

[Smiling.] I was the first. I saw you coming 
down the platform, slantways through the win- 
dow. Oh ! I was so afraid you'd go past me. 

Heath. 

And I was so afraid you wouldn't be in the 
train. 

Kate. 

How could you be? You didn't know me. 

Heath. 

But I've always been looking out for you. 
Whenever I start on a journey, or even walking 
down the street, I scan the people's faces and 



106 COUSIN KATE 

wonder if one of them is yours. Sometimes I 
think I see you. She has a little way of inclining 
as she walks, or tilting her chin, or saying some- 
thing, or generally of laughing — which makes 
me think she must be you. I watch my chances 
and pursue her. But very soon I find out that 
she isn't you at all. But to-day she was you. 
Oh, I've found you at last. [He takes her in his 
arms.'\ 

Kate. 
And you won't go away? 

Heath. 
Never. 

[He hisses her slowly and tenderly, then 
with their arms about each other they 
move slowly towards the settle. Kate 
sits down there, Heath on a stool at 
her feet. They settle themselves com- 
fortably, leaning against each other, 
with hands clasped. 

Kate. 

Yes, like this. 

Heath. 

[Dreamily.] We'll pretend we are sitting at 
home by our own fire. We'll often sit like this 
— won't we — and listen to the rain? Only it'll 
be a little house in a wood, like the one the three 
bears lived in. I'll make it out of branches. 



COUSIN KATE 107 

Kate, 

[Softly.] Could we really live in a little house 
like that? 

Heath. 

Yes. We'll live all by ourselves. Would you 
like that? 

Kate. 

Yes. But I'm afraid you'd get tired with only 
me. 

Heath. 

No, dear, I wouldn't. If we wanted a little 
gaiety we could go and call on Mr. and Mrs. 
Squirrel, or ask Miss Weasel to tea. 

Kate. 
And where would we get our food? 

Heath. 

We'd ask Mrs. Squirrel the best place to go for 
nuts, and there'd be a little stream running past 
our front door where we'd fish in the mornings. 

Kate. 

[Very softly.] Can't we go to it now? 

Heath, 
[Closing his eyes.] Yes — as soon as the rain 
stops. 

[He leans against her with closed eyes as 
if he were going to sleep. Kate loolcs 



108 COUSIN KATE 

dreamily in the fire. They are silent. 
A clock outside strikes six. 

Kate. 

[Starts, as if coming out of a dream.l Six. 
{Uneasily. '\ I'd forgotten about clocks. 

Heath. 

\Without opening his eyes.'] There'll be no 
clocks in the wood. 

Kate. 

We mustn't talk any more nonsense. 

Heath. 

[Looking up at her.] We are talking sense. 
That's nonsense all the other people talk — 
[Pointing to windoiv.] Out there in their big, 
noisy world. They don't know about our little 
world. [Sits heside her on the seat, his arnh 
about her.] 

Kate. 

[Troubled; looking aivay from him.] This 
isn't the world. 

Heath. 

, No, dear — it's Paradise. 

Kate. 
But we aren't ready for Paradise yet. [Rises.] 
We must go back. Back to life. This isn't life, 



COUSIN KATE 109 

by a dim light and a drowsy fire; [She goes to 
the window and draws the curtain. A pale, white 
light comes from the window afid takes away all 
the warmth from the candle light and firelight. 
She turns to him, pointing from the window as 
she speaks.] There ! That's life out in the 
storm. If our love is real it will weather the 
wind and the rain. 

Heath. 
But let it sit a little longer by the fire first. 

Kate. 

[Takes his hajids.] ISTo. I must go away. 
But we'll take it with us wherever we go. It's 
going to be an ennobling love to help us when 
we work, so that we shan't feel ashamed of it 
when it's time to draw our blinds and light our 
lamps. It must spend good days to earn its 
pleasant evenings. Then we'll let it dream a 
little. 

Heath. 



[He kisses 
very soon? 


her 


hand.] And 
Kate. 


you'll 


meet 


me 


Yes. 




Heath. 








When? 




Kate. 








A month from to-day? 









110 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 
[Protesting.] A month! 

Kate. 
Well — a fortnight. 

Heath. 

That's too long. 

KLa-Tb. 

A week. 

Heath. 

To-morrow. 

Kate. 

To-morrow at three o'clock. 

Heath. 

I can't wait so long as that. 

Kate. 

Then make it half-past two. 

[They both laugh. There is a ring at the 
front-door bell. They looTc at each other 
and become very serious. 

Heath. 
Shall I go and see? 

Kate. 
[Considers a moment.] No, I'll go. 



COUSIN KATE 111 

[Kate goes out, leaving the door ajar. 
Heath goes to the door and listens. 

Amy. 

[Heard outside.'\ Here you are. I've brought 
you an umbrella. 

Heath. 

[Greatly disconcerted.] Amy! How awk- 
ward! What shall I say to her? 

[He takes his hai quickly from the table 
and goes to the window, is about to open 
it when Amy opens the door. He slips 
behind the window curtain. 

[Amy enters in her bicycling costume, carrying 
an umbrella. Kate follows her, trying to 
conceal her embarrassment. 

Amy. 

What a time the storm lasted. 

Kate. 

Yes — didn't it ? [Looking about furtively, 
says to herself.] I wonder where he went. 

Amy. 

Mother thought I'd better come over and see 
if you were all right, so as soon as it stopped 
pouring, I got on my bicycle and brought this. 
[Lays the umbrella against the seat.] 



112 COUSIN KATE 

Kate, 
[To herself.] His hat's gone. 

Amy. 

You must have been awfully dull here by your- 
self. 

Kate. 

Oh, no, it wasn't so dull. 

Amy. 

[Noticing the tea things.] I see you found 
some tea things. 

Kate. 

Yes. [Glancing at the window.] He must 
have gone the way he came. 

Amy. 
It looks as if two people had had tea. 

Kate. 
[Staring at the table.] Does it? 

Amy. 
[Pointing.] Two cups. 

Kate. 

Yes, I had two cups. [Humourously, pointing 
to cups.] That's my first cup, and that's my 
second. 



COUSIN KATE 113 

Amy. 
\_Laugliing.'\ Don't be silly. 

Kate. 
Tell me — has Heath been to see you ? 

Amy. 

Not yet. Hasn't he been here? [Goes to the 
fire.l 

Kate. 

No. [Starts suddenly, unperceived hy Amy, 
suspecting the truth. After a momentary look of 
alarm she becomes composed.} 

Amy. 

[LooMng at the fire, says innocently.'] Bobby 
went to Heath's lodgings and they said he'd come 
here. I suppose he hadn't got my letter. He 
ought to have it by now. Let's lock up and go. 
Did you look and see if the upstairs windows were 
fastened? [Kate doesn't heed her; Amy 
smiles.] I knew you'd forget. You might just 
fasten that one [indicating the window as she 
goes towards the door] while I go upstairs. 
[Turns at the door, smiling.] Oh, I've found 
out who your charming young man in the train 
was. Can't you guess? 

Kate. 
[Trying to conceal her fears.'] No. 



114 COUSIN KATE 

Amy. 

Try. 

Kate. 

I'd rather not. 

Amy. 

Heath. 

[Amy goes out laughing. Kate stands 
motionless. Heath comes slowly from 
behind the curtain and faces her. 

Heath. 

[With intense earnestness. 1 I'm not — I'm 
not what you think. She doesn't love .me. She 
drove me away before. It'll soon be all right. I 
meant every word I said. I'm yours absolutely. 
I must be your husband and you must be my 
wife. 

[He approaches her with his arms out. 
She holds up her hand sternly, forbid- 
ding him to touch her. 



Kate. 



No! 



Heath. 

[Dropping his hands hy his sides.'\ I mean it. 
I mean every word I said. You mu^t believe me. 

Kate. 

[Deliberately.] You were not playing with 
me? 



COUSIN KATE 115 

Heath. 

No — on my soul, no ! I'll tell her now, before 
you. 

Kate. 

You say you were not playing? 

Heath. 

No — no ! 

Kate. 

[^LooJcs him steadily in the face hefore she 
says.] But I was. 

^He steps hack, dumbfounded and horri- 
fied. 

Heath. 
Ah, no! 

Kate. 

Yes, of course. You don't suppose for a mo- 
ment I thought you were in earnest. 

[Amy enters. She stops on the threshold, 
surprised and pleased to see Heath. 

Amy. 

Heath! [Coming towards him.] Have you 
just come? Did you get my letter? 

Heath. 

[Whose attitude to Amy is quiet and gentle.'] 
No. 

Amy. 

[Simply and penitently.] I wrote to tell you 



116 COUSIN KATE 

how sorry I was, and to ask you to forgive me. 
Will you ? [She holds out her hand to him. He 
takes it mechanically. She thinks they are recon- 
ciled.^ Thank you. [Amy looks towards Kate 
a little emhari'ossed.} You know Cousin Kate 
already, I think. 

Heath. 

[Hurriedly.'] Yes, yes. I'll come and see you 
this evening and explain everything. 

Amy. 

[Turning to Heath, says innocently.'] We can 
do that now. It won't take long. 

Heath. 
[Looking at Kate.] Not here — not yet. 

Amy. 

[Following the direction of his eyes.] Oh, I 
see. You are shy before Cousin Kate. 

Heath. 

Yes. Wait till this evening. I'll come — this 
evening. 

Amy. 

[Pleasantly.] Very well. Go home and get 
the letter and then come and see me. 

Heath. 

[Hurriedly.] Yes. I'll do that. 

[Heath goes out right without looking "back. 



COUSIN KATE 117 

Amy. 

[LooTcing after Heath.] Poor Heath. I sup- 
pose he feels rather guilty, too. [With a smile 
and a sigh of relief.] Oh, well; it's all right 
now. Put on your hat, Cousin Kate, while I 
put these things away. 

\_TaJces up some of the cups, etc., from the 
table and carries them out. Kate sits 
forlornly on the settle. 

Kate. 
Oh, Kate, Kate! You poor old fool! 



CURTAIN. 



THE THIED ACT 

SCENE: — The same as Act I. About half an 
hour has elapsed since Act II. The storm 
being followed by a fine sunset. It grows 
gradually dusk during the act. 
Mrs. Spencer sits sewing on the sofa. Bobby is 
standing at the window. Both are dressed as 
in, Act I. 

Bobby, 
[Calls from the window.'] Hullo, Amy! 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Putting down her worTc.] At last. 

Bobby. 

[Calling from the window.] You'd better hurry 
up. You'll be late for supper. [Turns to his 
mother.] It's Amy by herself, on her bicycle. 

[Amy enters dressed as in Act II. She 
looJcs very happy and smiling. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Where's Cousin Kate? 
118 



COUSIN KATE 119 

Amy. 
She's coming. I left her to walk. I was in 
such a hurry to tell you. I've seen Heath. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[In cheerful anticipation.} Oh, well? 

Amy. 

He came to Owlscot while I was there. He'6 
coming here this evening. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
And how did he seem ? 

Amy. 
I think he was rather embarrassed. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Well, that's no wonder. 

Amy. 

No, and with Cousin Kate there we couldn't 
say very much, but he said he'd come this evening. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Dear Amy, [Embraces her.'] I had a feeling 
it would all come right when Cousin Kate came. 
[Amy turns smiling from Mrs. Spencer 
to Bobby. 



120 COUSIN KATE 

Bobby. 
[^Awkwardly.'\ I say, I'm beastly glad. 

Amy. 

Oh, Bobby ! 

[Amy pounces on Bobby and kisses him 
on the brow. He pushes her away dis- 
gusted. 

Bobby. 
Oh, don't. Amy. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Now we can open Mrs. Darbisher's present. 
[Goes to the drawer ivhere she put the parcel in 
Act I, getting it out as she speaks.] It came about 
three o'clock, but I didn't tell you. I thought it 
would only upset you. [Gives the parcel to Amy, 
who sits down and unpacks it. Mrs. Spencer 
stands beside her, her eyes glisteniiig with curios- 
ity as she watches her.] It's sure to be something 
handsome from Mrs. Darbisher. It may be an 
ostrich feather fan, with real tortoise shell sticks. 
[U?ider the brown paper Amy fi7ids a square card- 
board box. She takes off the lid, takes out a fat 
parcel ivrapped in ivhite tissue-paper.] Oh, it's 
something squashy — lace — a roll of priceless 
point de venise. [Amy takes off the tissue-paper, 
and holds up a padded satin handkerchief case, 
elaborately trimmed with lace and four long rib- 
bon ends. Mrs. Spencer's face betrays the keen- 
est disappointment when the present is exposed.] 



COUSIN KATE 121 

Amy. 
A handkerchief case. 

Mrs. Spencek. 

She ought to be ashamed to send a home-made 
thing like that. 

Amy. 

Oh, mother, it's very pretty. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

For a bazaar, yes — but not for a wedding 
present. 

Amy. 

I think it was very kind of her to remember me 
at all. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

That's nonsense. Amy. I expected fish carvers 
at least from Mrs. Darbisher. But I've noticed 
that rich people often give the scrubbiest pres- 
ents. 

Amy. 
Oh, mother! 

Bobby. 

Let's have a look at it. [Taking it very care- 
fully in his h,ands.] For pocket-handkerchiefs? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I suppose that's what she meant it for. [Fin- 
gers it contemptuously.] It's hard to tell. Such 
a puffy looking thing. 



122 COUSIN KATE 

Bobby. 

I'll tell you what it's for. It's to put on your 
head when you dust. [He puts it on his head. 
Amy makes a grab at him. He jumps away from 
her. Mrs. Spencer and Amy laugh at him. He 
ties two of the ribbons under his chin.l These 
are the strings. [Tosses the other two over his 
shoulders.^ And these two are the tails. [Mrs. 
Spencer is convulsed with laughter. Amy goes 
towards him to take it from him. He dodges her.^ 

Amy. 
Don't, Bobby, you'll crush it. 

Bobby. 

[Taking his handkerchief from his pocket, he 
pretends to dust a chair.] You see you go about in 
it to do your mornin' dustin' like this. It keeps 
the dust out of your hair. 

Amy. 

[Follows him laughing, hut a little alarmed for 
the safety of the present.] Take it off. [He runs 
away from her behind the sofa.] Catch him, 
mother. [They chase Bobby round the furniture, 
all three laughing merrily.] 

[Kate appears at the window dressed as before. 
She looks pale and dejected. She watches 
them ivithout smiling before they see her. 
Mrs. Spencer sees her first. 



COUSIN KATE 123 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh, there's Cousin Kate. 

[They stop the chase. Kate comes forward 
trying to smile. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Out of hreath.] What children you must think 
us, all romping like this, but we're so happy. 
[Bobby throius the handkerchief case over to Amy, 
who catches it. Mrs. Spencer jumps with fright 
as it passes /ler.] Oh, dear ! 

Amy. 

[Smiling, as she comes towards Kate.] We're 
in rather better spirits than when you came, aren't 
we? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

We were laughing over one of Amy's wedding 
presents. [To Amy.] Just show Kate that thing 
Mrs. Darbisher sent you. 

Amy. 

No, mother, dear. You've said quite enough 
things about it. 

[Amy sits on the sofa and packs up the 
present. 

Kate. 
How d'you do, Bobby ! I haven't seen you. 



124 COUSIN KATE 

Bobby. 

How d'you do, Cousin Kate ! I saw you when 
you didn't see me. 

Kate. 
Did you? Where? 

Bobby. 
Gettin' out of the train with Heath. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

How funny you and Heath should travel to- 
gether, and you'd no idea who he was? 

Kate. 
No. You never told me he was an Irishman. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I thought everyone knew. [Kate smiles 
wearily and lays her sunshade down.]^ Kate, you 
look tired, 

K^ate. 

I am rather tired. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
You ought to have rested after your journey. 

Kate. 
[Wistfully.'] It would have been wiser. 



COUSIN KATE 125 

Amy. 

[Smiles.] Such an exciting journey, too. 
[Rises, with the parcel.} 

Kate. 
[Smiling at Amy.] Yes. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
You^ll feel better after supper. 

Amy. 

Come along, Bobby. We'll put Mrs. Darbisher's 
present among the rest. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Yes. That ought to make her feel ashamed. 
[Amy and Bobby go out. Mrs. Spencer 
looJcs after them, smiling affectionately. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Dear Amy. She's so happy again. You know 
I said it would be all right when you came. 

Kate. 

[Earnestly.li I hope it will. 

[Mrs. Spencer impressed by her earnest 
tone looks hard at her. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Tell me, Kate. Is this something really serious ? 



126 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 
What? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

What you told me before you went to Owlscot. 
You said you were in love. 

Kate. 

It's all over now. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Already ? I thought it was only just beginning 
from the way you carried on. 

Kate. 

I lost my head a little, I suppose, but I soon 
saw it couldn't come to anything. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I should have thought you'd be the last person 
in the world to lose your head about a man, with 
all your experience. 

Kate. 

[Trying to speak lightly at the beginning of her 
speech, but carried away by the intensity of her 
emotion as she proceeds.] And boasting. I who 
have written a score of love-scenes to show you 
how a woman can turn a man round her little fin- 
ger. I who knew exactly how close the moth dare 
fly to the flame. It's so easy to be wise about 



COUSIN KATE 127 

love, if you aren't in love. But when you've 
given yourself body and soul, you don't stop to 
think of the effect you are making — you lose 
yourself — you only see him, him — [Seeing 
Mrs. Spencer watching her narrowly, she checks 
her emotion and says weakly. '[ — I should think. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I hoped you'd fallen in love with someone nice 
that you could marry. 

Kate. 

[Gravely.^ I shall never marry. [Trying to 
laugh at herself. 1 I know they always say that 
[gravely}, but I really shan't. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Why not? 

Kate. 

There are reasons. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Do you know something against him? 

Kate. 
Oh, no — nothing. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[With sympathetic curiosity.} Perhaps he 
isn't in your own position or can't afford to sup- 
port you? 



128 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

Oh, that wouldn't matter. Don't let us talk 
about it. It's a shame to bother you with my 
troubles when you are all so happy. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

But I want you to be happy, too. I should so 
like to see you well married. I often think you 
must be lonely living all by yourself. 

Kate. 
{^Dejectedly.'] I have my work. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I suppose that's it. You won't give up your 
work for him. I don't see why you can't have 
both. You could easily arrange to take three or 
four mornings off a week to write in. 

Kate. 

My dear funny Sarah, don't say any more about 
it, or you'll make me laugh. [Cries and turns 
away from Mrs. Spencer, wiping her eyes.] 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Affectionately.'] Never mind, dear, I daresay 
it will all work out right. We shall soon be having 
another wedding. 



COUSIN KATE 129 

Kate. 

[Through her tears.'] I shall never have a wed- 
ding. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Is he married ? 

Kate. 
No. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Engaged ? 

Kate. 

Yes — he's engaged. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Then he must break it off. 

Kate. 
But what about her? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I'm sure she wouldn't make him half as good 
a wife as you would. 

Kate. 

You can talk like that about her if she's some- 
one you never saw or heard of, but not if she's an 
alive person — that you love. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
That makes a difference, doesn't it ? It wouldn't 



130 COUSIN KATE 

matter if she was just Miss Jones or Miss Smith, 
but — if it were Amy for instance. 

ELate. 
{^Sighing.'] Yes, — if — it were Amy. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Poor Kate. 

Kate. 

[Bravely hlinJcing hack her tears.1 Oh, well, 
I'm not the first woman who gave her heart to 
the wrong man. I shan't die of it. [Breaking 
down.'} I wish I could. 

[Amy and Bobby enter. Kate goes out 
quickly without noticing them. Bobby 
closes the door after her. 

Bobby and Amy. 

[Looking after Kate.] What's the matter with 
Cousin Kate ? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

She's caught a chill. [To Amy.] What time 
is Heath coming ? 

Amy. 

He didn't say. I suppose he'll come as soon as 
he has changed his things. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

He may not come till after supper if we don't 
ask him. Bobby, run round to Heath's lodgings 



COUSIN KATE 131 

and say we expect him to supper. We'll put it 
half an hour later to give him time. 

Bobby. 
All right. {^Goes out at the window.'] 

Mrs. Spencer. 

We must give Heath a rousing welcome. I'll 
put on my black silk, and you can wear your new 
christaline muslin. I hope the fowl will go round. 
[Her attention is attracted by something outside.} 
Oh, there's Mr. Bartlett coming round the corner. 
I wonder where he's going. [Goes to the ivindow.] 

Amy. 
[Embarrassed.'] I expect he's coming here. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
He wouldn't come here at supper time. 

Amy. 

Yes, I asked him — a long time ago — before 
Cousin Kate came. 

[Mrs. Spencer turns to Amy, visibly an- 
noyed. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh, Amy! And I thought we were going to 
have such a nice little supper all by ourselves, and 
now — with Mr. Bartlett here — we can't laugh. 



132 COUSIN KATE 

Amy. 
It can't be helped now. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
It could have been helped before. 

Amy. 
Shall I tell Jane to excuse us? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Wavering.l I wonder. Do you think we 
could? [Bows and smiles amiably from the win- 
dow.} Good evening, Mr, Bartlett. [Turns 
gloomily to Amy.] It's too late now. I suppose 
there's nothing for it but to look as if we were 
expecting him. [Sits doivn, looking very cross.} 
The fowl won't go round. 

Amy. 

[LooTcing anxiously at Tier mother.} Do say 
something pleasant and put him at his ease. 

[Jane enters. 
Jane. 
Mr. Bartlett! 

[Mr. Bartlett enters. Mrs. Spencer 
rises and greets hiin with cordiality, 
shakes his hand. Jane goes out. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Well, Mr. Bartlett, this is a pleasant surprise. 



COUSIN KATE 133 

Amy. 
Not a surprise, mother. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Oh, no — [with a look at Amy]. No, of course 
not. We've been waiting a long time. 

Bartlett. 
Fm afraid I'm late. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Confused.] Oh, no, but — 

Amy. 

[Coming to the rescue.] She means Heath. 
He's coming to supper. That is our pleasant sur- 
prise. 

[Bartlett looJcs gravely at Amy. She re- 
turns his look, then twns away. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[To Amy.] Yes. [To Bartlett.] I didn't 
mean you were a pleasant surprise. 

[Amy and Mrs. Spencer give an awkward 
laugh. 

Amy. 

Oh, mother. [Hurriedly to Mrs. Spencer.] 
I'll tell Jane to set two extra places. 

[Amy goes out. Mrs. Spencer a,nd Mr. 
Bartlett sit down together. 



134 COUSIN KATE 

Baktlett. 

[Impressively.^ I presume I am correct in 
surmising that Mr. Desmond's escapade is for- 
given ? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Well, yes. Amy saw him this afternoon at 
Owlscot and they seem to have made it up. 

Bartlett. 

Does she know about that conversation you and 
I had before she sent her letter to him? 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Smiling uneasily. 1 Well, no. You see the 
engagement was never really broken off, so I 
couldn't very well say anything — could I ? No. 

Bartlett. 

There was a distinct understanding between us 
that she should be given her choice. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

I suppose there was — in a way. [Jane enters, 
with a lamp turned loir, tvhich she sets on the 
table. Mrs. Spencer, relieved by this interrup- 
tion, exclaims cheerfully.'] Oh, here's Jane with 
the lamp. [Springs up.] Now, Mr. Bartlett, per- 
haps you would like to smoke while we are dress- 
ing. You do smoke, don't you? 



COUSIN KATE 135 

Bartlett. 

[In his genial manner, because of Jane's pres- 
ence.^ I occasionally indulge in a weed. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

We allow smoking — in the summer house. 
[Bartlett goes out by the window, taking 
a cigar from his pocket. Jane is ab- 
sorbed, turning up the lamp, peering 
closely at it. Kate enters in the same 
dress, but without her hat. 

Kate. 
I think I left my sunshade here. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Did you, dear? 

[Mrs. Spencer goes out. 

Kate. 
Have you seen it, Jane? 

Jane. 

[Taking the sunshade from the desk.'] Here it 
is. Miss. 

Kate. 

[Taking it from Jane.] Thank you. 

Jane. 
[Grinning.] I thought it didn't look like one 



136 COUSIN KATE 

of ours. We always get a sight of the fashions 
when you come. [Kate is about to go to the door 
and stops when Jane speaks.'\ We shall be quite 
a party at supper. Miss. 

Kate. 
Why ? WJio's coming ? 

Jane. 
There's Mr. Bartlett, and Mr. 'eath — 

Kate. 

[Aside.] Heath. [To Jane.] Come to my 
room and tell me as soon as he comes. 

Jane. 

Yes, miss. [The front door hell rings-l I ex- 
pect that's him now. 

Kate. 

[Giving her sunshade to Jane.] Please put 
this in the hall. 

[Jane takes the sunshade and goes out. 

Kate. 

[Talking to herself to control herself.] Keep 
your head, Kate — be brave, dear ; he mustn't 
think you care. Don't cry — for goodness' sake, 
don't cry. 



COUSIN KATE 137 

[Heath enters. He now wears a blue serge 
suit. 

Heath. 

Ah ! Now we have a chance to explain ourselves 
while they are dressing. 

Kate. 
[Controlling her emotion successfully during the 
early part of the scene.'] I have explained myself. 

Heath. 

No, you haven't. 

Kate. 

I only want to add that I feel very much 
ashamed; I should never have done what I did if 
I'd known you were engaged to Amy. I waited 
here now to ask you what you are going to say to 
her. 

Heath. 

That depends on you. 

Kate. 

[Alarmed, hut trying to hide it.'] You must 
keep me out of your reckoning altogether. 

Heath. 

I can't. I've been thinking it all over this last 
half-hour, and I see that you must have been in 
earnest. No one could act love like that. It 
wouldn't be worth while. 



138 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

[Assuming flippancy.'] Except to a novelist 
getting copy. 

Heath. 

Please don't talk that way about it. 

Kate. 

[Facing him.] We must understand each 
other now. 

Heath. 

You mean you were just dissecting emotion, 
analysing passion — for experience — to put in 
a book? 

Kate. 

[Uneasily.] Yes — that was it. 

Heath. 

If you meant to amuse yourself, making a fool 
of me — 

Kate. 

[Interrupting.] I'm sorry I hurt you. 

Heath. 

Yes, but why did you try to stop me coming in 
the house — why did you keep me at arm's length 
for ever so long ? 

Kate. 

[Uneasily; assuming flippancy.] It's part of 
the game to seem reluctant at first. 



COUSIN KATE 139 

Heath. 

lAbruptly.'] Why did you tremble so when I 
touched your hand? 

Kate. 
[Taken aback by his abrupt question.l Did I ? 

Heath. 
Yes, and you stammered and flushed. 

Kate. 

I had to keep saying to myself — " Now what 
would a woman who really felt it all do here ? " 
She'd tremble and stammer — she'd — 

Heath. 

[Watching her calmly.'] That's silly. 

Kate. 

It's my explanation. [Sits down, looking away 
from him.] 

Heath. 

She might tremble and stammer intentionally, 
but she couldn't flush unless she felt. No one can. 
You were afraid then, really afraid. You started 
to go, but you didn't go — you stayed. Oh, no, 
you weren't playing then. 

Kate. 

One must be a little bit in earnest or there's no 
excitement in a flirtation. 



140 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 

If ours was a flirtation, what is there left for 
love? 

Kate. 

Did I flirt so well you couldn't tell the differ- 
ence? 

Heath. 

You didn't flirt fair. Flirtation is a game with 
rules, and you cheated. 

Kate. 

I've told you I'm ashamed. Won't you accept 
my apology? 

Heath. 

[Hardens his face and his voice, going a step 
to her as he speaks.] Shall I tell you what I think 
of a woman who deliberately sets to work to steal 
a man's love — without pity or passion, just to 
try her power and satisfy her vanity? 

Kate. 

[Falteringly.'] You can if you like. I daresay 
I've deserved it. 

[Heath Joohs at her in silence; then his 
face relaxes. He speaks with a sudden 
hurst of genuine emotion. 

Heath. 

Oh, I — I don't believe it of you. I've only to 
look at you to see you aren't a fraud. [Kate 



COUSIN KATE 141 

Jceyed up to hear him denounce her is thrown off 
her guard by his unexpected speech. She looks 
up at him gratefully. He kneels beside her speak- 
ing with increasing emotion.^ I know you love 
me. I never opened my heart to anyone as I did 
to you. It seems so natural to say everything to 
you, just as I think of it. I'd be ashamed to talk 
such foolishness to anybody else — [s7niling at 
her] — about Silverlocks and the squirrels and 
our little house in the wood. 

Kate. 

[Puts out her hand as if to stop him speaking.^ 
Listen. Let me tell you. When I found out that 
you were Amy's lover, I was so afraid. I thought 
I'd taken you from her. So I pretended I'd only 
been flirting. I thought it was the only way to 
end it. But I can't do it any more. [She rises, 
moving about as she speaks. He rises, too, watch- 
ing her.] We might have known it would come to 
no good, beginning like that. 

Heath. 

[Half-sitting on the edge of the table in the 
same attitude and speaking with the same tone 
of enthusiasm as he spoke a similar speech near 
the beginning of Act II, that he recalls, now un- 
consciously, reproducing the same effect.] It 
began so perfectly, didn't it? How we flew 
through the woods and over the towns — a god 
and a goddess dropped from two planets, do you 
remember ? 



142 COUSIN KATE 

Kate. 

[Very seriously, facing him.'] But now we\e 
facts to face, not romances. 

Heath. 

[With enthusiasm.] The beauty of it is that 
you and I can turn facts into romances. A third- 
class railway carriage becomes a royal chariot 
when we ride in it together. I think our meet- 
ing was the greatest thing that ever happened in 
this world. 

Kate. 

To us, but only to us. The world didn't cry 
for joy when we met. It was only you and I. 

Heath. 

[Quietly.] You know Amy did tell me she 
couldn't marry me unless I changed. 

Kate. 

Be patient with her. She's young yet, and 
she's sorry. She's getting all ready for her wed- 
ding. You can't leave her now. 

Heath. 

It isn't that I don't care what becomes of Amy. 
I've tried very hard to be fair to her — I gave 
her a chance to call me back if she wanted me. 



COUSIN KATE 143 

Kate. 
She did call you back. 

Heath. 

Not for a long time. I waited more than an 
hour. 

Kate. 

An hour ! That's not long in a lifetime. 

Heath. 

It's long in the crisis of a lifetime. If I'd 
told you I considered myself free if you didn't call 
me back at once, you wouldn't have kept me wait- 
ing a whole hour before you sent. You'd have 
come yourself — wouldn't you ? 

l^Comes close to her. 

Kate. 
[FirmZ^.] I can't marry you. 

Heath. 
[With sudden alarm.'] You're not engaged? 

Kate. 
No. 

Heath. 

[Relieved.'] Ah! You gave me such a start 
for a moment. 

Kate. 

But I can't take you from her. You don't 



144 COUSIN KATE 

know how this little family trust me. They said 
things would be better when I came. And just 
now, after Amy had seen you, they were all so 
happy again. All their clouds had gone and they 
said Cousin Kate had rolled them away, so how 
could I be the one to take you from them? 

Heath. 

But there's you and I, too, with long lives to 
live. Think what they'll be if we live them to- 
gether. Think what they'll be if we don't. I 
want to do the straight thing. I'm sure it's more 
honest to tell Amy the truth. [Mr. Bartlett 
sloivly passes the window without, smoking.] 
There's Bartlett, I'll ask him. [Goes to the win- 
dow.] 

Kate. 

[Alarmed.] No. 

Heath. 

Why not? I won't mention your name, of 
course. 

Kate. 

But you and I don't go by what he says. 

Heath. 

No, but they do. [Goes to the window and 
calls.] Bartlett ! [Mr. Bartlett throws end of 
cigar away and enters by the window.] I've got 
rather a hard nut to crack, and I want to ask 
you what you think. You know about me going 



COUSIN KATE 145 

away, and — it wasn't all my fault, but after I 
went — well, the fact is I've fallen in love with 
somebody else and I want to know what you think 
I ought to do? 

Bartlett. 

[hniyressively.] This is a most grievous state 
of affairs. 

Heath. 

Yes, but there isn't time for all that. I must 
meet Amy in a minute. I think I ought to tell 
her the truth, and — [indicating Kate] she 
thinks I ought not to. WTiat do you think? 

Bartlett. 

I think a man should speak the truth at all 
seasons. 

Heath. 

Now, that makes me hesitate. When I see my 
duty and inclination looking the same, I always 
begin to suspect myself. 

Bartlett. 

Before I knew what your inclination was I 
thought it advisable to break off this engagement. 
I said so when I brought your message. 

Heath. 
Did you tell Amy so? 



146 COUSIN KATE 

Baetlett. 
I was prepared to do so, but I was not allowed. 

Heath. 

Why? 

Bartlett. 

[Indicating Kate,] This lady can tell you. 
She was with Miss Spencer when she wrote that 
letter I brought you. 

Heath. 
[To Kate.] Did you urge her to write it? 

Kate. 

I only put the case plainly before her. She 
made her own choice. 

Bartlett. 

[With repressed resentment.'] You took great 
pains to prevent me seeing her. 

Kate. 

[Answering him in the same tone."] Because 
you were trying to take an unfair advantage of 
her. 

Bartlett. 

Eeally, I must take exception — 

Kate. 
[Interrupting him.'] There's no time to mince 



COUSIN KATE 147 

matters. The happiness of this whole family is 
at stake — more than that — their faith in all 
human nature through us three. I can't stand 
seeing their hearts broken by our selfishness. 

Bartlett. 

[Sohmnly.l I am not actuated by selfishness 
in the discharge of my duties. 

Kate. 

[Turning on him indignantly.'] You don't see 
through yourself. You are so sure of your own 
goodness you never search your motives. You 
smother them up with long words and tell your- 
self you are doing the Will of Heaven — because 
it suits you. You're not honest with yourself — 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Calling off stage.] Amy ! 

Kate. 
{Imploringly to Heath.] She's coming. 

Amy. 
[Calling off stage.] I'm coming. 

Bartlett. 

[Going close to Heath.] If you wish to break 
your engagement now, I am ready to propose to 
her myself. 



148 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 

You want to strike a bargain with me. No, 
I'm — no. I won't — [To Kate.] You are 
right; I'll keep my promise to Amy. [Enter 
Mrs. Spencer in her black silk, followed by Amy 
in her new dress, then Bobby, in an Eton suit. 
They all smile with embarrassment and came in 
a procession towards Heath. Bobby closes the 
door.l 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Holding out her hand to Heath.] Welcome 
home. 

Bartlett. 

[Standing behind a chair, speaks with serious 
formality so that they all turn to him.} Mrs. 
Spencer, Miss Spencer, all of you. It will soon 
be my solemn task to say to the congregation, 
"If any man can show any just cause why these 
two persons may not lawfully be joined together, 
let him now speak or else hereafter forever hold 
his peace." 

Mrs. Spencer. 

What do you mean? 

Bartlett. 

Mr. Desmond has just made me a confession. If 
he will not repeat it, the painful duty devolves 
upon me. 

Amy. 

[Stepping forward.} No, I don't want to hear 



COUSIN KATE 149 

it. If Heath has done anything he's ashamed 
of, he'll tell me and I'll forgive him. He has 
plenty of things to forgive me, I'll gladly forgive 
him one. 

[Mr. Baetlett turns and goes slowly into 

the garden. Kate comes towards Amy 

and embraces her. 

Kate. 
[Brokenly.'] Bless you, Amy. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Talcing her cue from Kate, presses Heath's 
hand.] Bless you, Heath. Mr. Bartlett always 
upsets me so. He has no tact. [Turns to Amy.] 
I suppose he'll still stay to supper. 

[Goes out. Bobby follows her. 

Amy. 

[Smiling at Kate.] Congratulate Heath, too. 
[Kate and Heath grasp hands, looking 
steadily at each other for a mo^ment. 
Then Kate withdraws her hand and 
goes out. 

Amy. 
[Crossing to the sofa.] Heath! [Heath sits 
on the sofa with Amy.] Before you confess to 
me, I think I had better confess to you. I have 
been guilty of a very grave offence since you went 
away. 



150 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 

^Dejectedly.] I seem to have been born to 
make trouble. 

Amy. 

It was in the midst of my uncertainty — not 
knowing if you would come back or not — some- 
one came and spoke to me in a way I ought not 
to have allowed, because I was still engaged to 
you. [Falterijig.l And I let him go on. 

Heath. 
Do you mean he asked you to marry him? 

Amy. 
He was beginning to. Then Cousin Kate came. 

Heath. 
So he didn't finish? 

Amy. 
No. 

Heath. 
Then what have I got to blame you for? 

Amy. 

My wicked thoughts. [Heath gives a quaint 
tired look away from her.l If Cousin Kate 
hadn't come he would have finished. 



COUSIN KATE 151 

Heath. 

And would you have accepted him? 

Amy. 
[Hanging her head.l Yes. 

Heath. 

{^Distressed. 1 To think I should almost have 
driven you to marry a man you didn't love. 

Amy. 

[In mild reproach.] Oh, Heath! I should 
never sink so low as that. 

Heath. 

[Talcen aback, smiles, and turns to look at her.] 
Do you love him? 

Amy. 

I felt as if I could then, but now — I have 
succeeded in banishing him completely from my 
mind. 

Heath. 

Am I standing between you and him? 

Amy. 

No, Heath. There is no question of that. He 
had no right to speak to me, and I had no right 
to listen. I shall never so forget myself again. 
I am quite ready to become your wife. 



152 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 
But I don't want you to sacrifice yourself. 

Amy. 

I am sure you will do everything to make me 
happy. 

Heath. 

But if he could make you happier — 

Amy. 
Oh, Heath, I don't want to spoil your life. 

Heath. 

Thank you very much. And of course I don't 
want to spoil yours. You know you haven't been 
quite satisfied with me. You wanted me to 
change. 

Amy. 

I see now that it was presumption for a girl 
like me to speak so to a man like you. You are 
so good and clever and I've never been anywhere 
particular. You know we must expect to make 
compromises when we marry. I am prepared to 
do this. 

Heath. 

Yes, but ought you to? 

Amy. 
I think I shall get into Heaven sooner by keep- 



COUSIN KATE 153 

ing my promises to you than by thinking only 
of my own soul. Oh, you needn't be afraid that I 
shall take my promise back now. 

Heath. 

Suppose I release you from it — suppose that 
you'd never made it — and that I and this other 
man came and offered you marriage. Which of 
us would you choose? 

Amy. 
{^Hanging her head.'] I haven't thought. 

Heath. 

[Smiles.'] Do think. It's really rather im- 
portant. 

Amy. 

I know it's very wrong to feel as I do. 

Heath. 

[Kindly.] No, it isn't. We can't any of us 
help feeling as we do. 

Amy. 

You see, it's this way. I think perhaps I'm 
more cut out for a clergyman's wife — than an 
artist's. 

Heath. 

Is the clergyman more cut out for you than the 
artist is? That's what I want to get at. 



154 COUSIN KATE 

Amy. 

I can't help feeling that he and I have more 
in common than you and I have. 

Heath. 

Yes, but if you were free now — would he 
finish what he was saying when Cousin Kate 
came ? 

Amy. 

I think so. 

Heath. 
You are free if you wish it. 

Amy. 

[Relieved-I Oh, Heath, how generous you 
are ! [He smiles at her and takes her hand as 
a friend. She looks at him serioiisly.} It doesn't 
seem to hurt you as much as I feared. 

Heath. 

[Gravely and kindly.'] Isn't it better for 
neither of us to have anything to reproach the 
other with? 

Amy. 

[Awkwardly.] Yes — thank you — [Draws 
her hand away.] Thank you. 

Heath. 

[Embarrassed.] Not at all. [He wanders 



COUSIN KATE 155 

away and sits at some distance from Amy.] 

[A gong sounds. 
Amy, 

That's for supper. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Heard off.] Now, then, you two, I'm coining. 
[Poking her head in playfully at the door, before 
she enters, expecting to surprise them in an affec- 
tionate attitude. She is greatly surprised to find 
them seated far apart.] Well! That's a new- 
fashioned way for an engaged couple to sit. 
[Heath and Amy rise, embarrassed.} 

[Enter Mrs. Spencer and Bobby, followed 

by Kate. Mr. Bartlett enters at the 

window. 

Amy. 
[Awkwardly.'} We are not an engaged couple. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
[Amazed.} What ! 

Heath. 

Amy finds she isn't cut out for an artist's 
wife. 

Amy. 

So Heath has very kindly released me from 
my engagement — Y-es — 

[There is an uncomfortable pause. Then 



156 COUSIN KATE 

Amy hastens into the garden. Mb. 
Bartlett, after a circular glance at the 
others, follows her. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

\With her hacJc to Amy and Mr. Bartlett, as 
they go out.] Whose fault is it? Mr. Bartlett's, 
I suppose. Oh, Mr. Bartlett, I forgot you were 
here. [Looks round the room.] Where is he? 

Bobby. 

Out in the garden with Amy. 

[Mrs. Spencer marches straight towards 
the window. 

Heath. 

[Preventing her from going out.~\ Don't in- 
terrupt them. They love each other. She told 
me so a moment ago. 

Mrs. Spencer. 
Oh, Kate! What shall we do? 

Kate. 
Leave them. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

You know you can't bear him. 

Kate. 
That's no reason why Amy shouldn't love him. 



COUSIN KATE 157 

He's a good man. I haven't the least doubt that 
he is held in the highest esteem all over the 
parish. She'll love, honour and obey him and 
never see through him — and then, he's her 
choice. 

[Amy and Baetlett enter at the window. 

Amy. 

[Comes towards Mrs. Spencer.] Mother, 
James has something to say to you. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

[Severely.] Who's James? [Amy indicates 
Bartlett, who stands smiling in an embarrassed 
manner in the hacJcground. Mrs. Spencer takes 
Amy on one side.] But, Amy, it looks so fast 
for you to be engaged to one man one moment 
and another one the next. I don't like it. 

[Jane hursts in. 
Jane. 
Please, mum, the fowl's growing cold. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

We're coming. [Jane goes out, leaving the 
door open. Mrs. Spencer turns to Mr. Bart- 
LETT.] Will you take Amy in to supper — 
James? [Heath and Kate both give a smoth- 
ered laugh. Bartlett smiles at Amy. Mrs. 
Spencer says sympathetically to Heath.] Heath, 
will it be too painful for you to remain? 



158 COUSIN KATE 

Heath. 
[Smiling. 1 I'll try to bear it. 

Mrs. Spencer. 

Then please bring Cousin Kate. [Turns to 
Bobby.] The fowl will have to go round. 

[Mrs. Spencer goes out with Bobby. 
Mr. Bartlett smilingly offers his arm 
to Amy. They go out together, leaving 
Heath and Kate alone, facing each 
other. 

Heath. 
Now, will you marry me? 

Kate. 

Shure, and I will. 

[They go out arm in arm. 



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